Once Upon a Christmastime
by tellyoscar
Summary: It had been over eleven years since Rick Grimes last saw saw Michonne Dubois. Days before Christmas they cross paths unexpectedly and a magical twist in time and fate thrusts him into a seemingly perfect reality.
1. Chapter 1

**'Tis the season to be jolly! I decided to write a little fun holiday story. I've had it in my head to do something like this for a while and I think this will be a good December stress reliever for me. I don't plan on it being too long or anything. I'm planning on finishing before the New Year lol. I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

It had been over eleven years since he last saw her.

Rick Grimes watched in enraptured silence as the woman —who once captured the soul of his younger self— stood across the street chatting animatedly with a group of familiar faces. She was even more beautiful than the images his unreliable memories recreated.

She hadn't seen him yet. He didn't expect to see her here of all places and as far as he knew she likely didn't expect to see him.

When he first left home, he visited their hometown every year at Christmas time. He never had the good—or bad, depending on how he chose to see it— fortune of ever running into her. Although, in the past five years, his visits had come to an end.

An image of one of their final happy moments together, invaded his mind. They were in her bedroom—her parents had been away for the weekend. Her skin bathed in the moonlight streaming from her open window. They were happy.

They laughed.

They foolishly planned for a future that would never be.

They found comfort in each other's arms.

"Fancy seeing you here stranger."

Rick snapped out of his reverie, coming face to face with Maggie Rhee. "Oh hey." He held his arms open to embrace her. Growing up, she was like a little sister to him. Their families were close due to their mother's long friendship.

"I only just got in. Couldn't miss my favorite holiday celebrations," he said sarcastically.

The town held an annual month long Festival of Lights to celebrate the holidays.

These celebrations were— to put it mildly— excessive. The town transformed into a winter wonderland. An enormous 50 feet tall Christmas tree adorned with an inordinate amount of glistening ornaments and lights, stood in the large square on Market street. The eerily angelic voices of the local children's choir filled the air with songs of joy and peace. People swarmed in an out of the quaint bustling shops carrying saccharine baked goods and last minute gaudy trinkets. It felt like the setting of a cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie.

He despised it all with a passion.

"You've missed it plenty in the past few years." She rolled her eyes playfully, taking a step back and looking him over. "Lori here with you?"

"Uh...no."

"How's the wedding planning coming along?"

"We're taking a break," he said, dispassionately. "A permanent one."

"Oh, wow. You guys seemed serious last time I saw you," she said sympathetically. "How'd your Mother take it. She's been wanting to marry you off for years with absolutely no luck."

He shrugged. "She'll live. She's somewhere around here spreading the yuletide joy. I was just about to go find her so I can get out of here."

"Well, it's good to see you again." She crossed her arms. "You could have called and said you were coming home. Give me some kind of a heads up. "

He grinned apologetically. "Surprise?"

"Very funny."

"I try."

"So, I'm guessing you came back here to mope and torture yourself with your least favorite holiday before moving on to the next doomed relationship."

He chuckled. "How do you know me so well?"

"What was it this time? She got tired of you being too emotionally unavailable?"

"Ouch."

His eyes inadvertently shifted to where Michonne Dubois stood across the street. Maggie's eyes followed his gaze and he could almost feel her grow cold beside him.

"Oh yeah," she said dryly. " _She's_ here."

"After all these years," he replied wistfully. "This is the first time, right?"

"Yeah. Well, when you stopped coming a few years ago, I assumed it was because of her," she said. "Everything you ever did seemed to lead back to her in some way."

"That's not true." His denial sounded weak even to his own ears. "And what happened with us is in the past. We've both moved on, so she's usually the last person on my mind."

"She waited for you, you know."

"I know," he replied softly. "How's Glenn and the kid?" he asked changing the subject.

Maggie saw right through him, but she allowed the subject change. "They're good. They're in line at the bakery. You know I can't resist my sweets."

"Oh I know."

"You should stop by later." Maggie gave him a parting hug. "And call me the next time you decide to show up unannounced."

"Alright, alright."

"I've gotta go make sure Glenn doesn't buy half the bakery."

He waved at Maggie as she retreated down the busy sidewalk, turning his attention back to Michonne. As if she could sense his gaze on her, her eyes drifted across the street mid-laugh and her smile faded as her eyes landed on him. She looked as if she's seen a ghost and in some ways she did. He was the unfortunate ghost from her past who likely conjured up some painful memories.

Rick watched as she attempted to compose herself. She leaned over to say something to the man beside her. Her eyes never left Rick.

He expected her to go on as if she hadn't noticed him or as if he were a stranger in her eyes, but she didn't. Instead, she crossed the pedestrian-only street, walking toward him. It was almost as if she didn't believe him to be real.

"Rick?"

That voice. He hadn't heard it in so long, but the sound was one he would never forget. When she spoke, her voice elicited a physical and emotional response that he couldn't quite put into words.

"Hey," he offered her a smile, still surprised that she bothered to acknowledge his presence. He wouldn't have held it against her if she didn't. They were different people now, and it was perfectly acceptable to move on from their teenaged puppy love.

"Michonne. I haven't seen you in —"

"Eleven years. Almost twelve," she finished for him. "To be exact."

While her cheeks had lost some of the fullness from her youth to mark her adulthood, her face remained almost unchanged. She had the same smooth dark brown skin, wide twinkling almond shaped eyes and full rounded lips.

Her hair was different. Instead of the blown out hair she wore in high school, she now had dreads, pulled up into a high ponytail.

Seeing her up close, the years that passed seemed to have only magnified her beauty.

"Uh yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I come home every year around this time. Guess we never crossed each other's path. Seems like you just up and disappeared after..."

"Well I distinctly remember saying I never wanted to see you again," she reminded him of their last encounter.

"And you meant it."

"Maybe." Her mouth curved into a small wistful smile. "Yet, here we are." She pulled her trench coat tighter around her body, shivering in the chilly wind. "So, how have you been? Where did life take you?"

"Almost, everywhere." It wasn't an understatement. He never actually settled in one place. "What about you?"

"I didn't go too far," she said. "I live in Virginia now. Just outside D.C."

"This feels surreal. Seeing you here," he said, honestly. "I didn't think I would ever see you again. I used to come here every year. I heard that you were gone, but..."

"The world is small. I was sure we would have crossed paths again at some point or the other."

Now that she was so close, he wasn't sure that he was prepared to let her go quite yet. The memory of here haunted him for years, living like a ghost inside of him. "Wanna get a coffee or something?" he asked. "We could sit and talk. Catch up."

She bit her lip, eyeing him carefully as she took a small step back. It was barely noticeable. He was sure she didn't even realize she did it. "We're talking now."

"Why didn't you come back?" He asked the burning question, not even bothering to ease into it. A part of him knew why and he dreaded hearing the reason spoken out loud, but he needed to know.

"I guess I didn't have a good reason to."

He appreciated her honesty, but he couldn't deny that the words stung. "And you have a reason now?"

"Well, yeah. Sasha uh...She's getting married in the new year. My finacé and I are in town to celebrate with my family. It's a good time to introduce him to my family and show him where I grew up. Certainly didn't expect to run into you here. I didn't think you still came to this thing. At least, that's what I just heard."

"I stopped coming."

She nodded, breaking eye contact and suddenly finding her shoes more interesting.

"What about the lucky guy? What's he like?" He nodded toward her fiancé.

Holding a conversation with her was not nearly as awkward as he anticipated it to be. While it certainly wasn't too comfortable, it flowed naturally and Michonne seemed to hold no contempt for him. Their fallout was truly a thing of the past.

"Lucky?" She laughed humorlessly. "He's nice. Great. My parents love him."

"That him?" He nodded toward, the tall, dark-skinned man she was talking to earlier. He appeared to be in deep conversation with her sister.

She peered over her shoulder. "Yeah. That's him." A small smile formed on her lips as she watched the man. Without taking her eyes away, she said, "It's really good to see you again Rick."

"You too."

They did an awkward dance wherein they tried to figure out the appropriate parting gesture. She finally held out a hand for him to shake. "See you around?"

"See you." He shook her hand, wishing they didn't have to be so formal, but knowing he was partially to blame for the way things were.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, watching her drift away without as much as a backwards glance in his direction. She linked arms with the man she promised to marry, easing seamlessly back into the conversation as if the sight of an ex-boyfriend never interrupted her.

One of the familiar faces in her group —Sasha's— gave him a dirty look as Michonne rejoined them. Her sister wasn't his biggest fan.

As he started to walk away, to search for his melodramatic mother, he collided with a small form. He apologized to the short stature man before him who was dressed in a red and green elf costume and held a bamboo box in his arms.

"Sorry. I didn't see you there."

"It's alright, Rick."

He leaned forward, peering into the heavily lined face of the man whose silver hair fell just beneath her cheeks. He had an odd look in his eye. It was almost one of mischief.

"Do I know you?"

"I don't know." He shrugged his bony shoulders, wearing an amused smile. "Do you?"

Rick decided to ask a different question, which he supposed made more sense. "Do you know me?"

"Well, I know your name." His eyes were filled with mirth. "You don't remember me?"

Rick leaned in closer. "Oh! Mr. Horvath." He thought recognized the man who lived a few houses down the street from his childhood home. He didn't realize the man —who he hadn't seen in years— was still alive. Also, he could have sworn the man had moved away at some point during his high school years.

"Yes, yes. How are you?"

"Good. I was just trying to get away from all this noise, so if you'd excuse me."

Mr. Horvath extended a withered hand, holding out what looked like a gold coin inside a square-shaped covering. "Would you like to buy a commemorative novelty coin?"

 _Great. Now he's trying to get me to buy junk,_ he thought, with an audible chuckle. He was beginning to regret his decision to return home for the holidays. "That's alright. I'm not interested. I've got enough useless crap filling up my apartment. I shouldn't add more. "

"Here," he held it out further. "Take it."

"I don't really want a…" He sighed, taking the coin from him, hoping to end the awkward exchange. "How much?"

"Tell you what," he said, waving Rick off. "It's yours to take. I can barely give these damn things away. Commemorative coins," he scoffed. "Who's bright idea was that? Nobody buys them!"

"Yeah, well uhh...thanks?"

"Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy the rest of your holidays." He winked at Rick, shifting the box in his arms as he prepared to go about the rest of his evening. "It's certainly the magical time of the year."

"Sure." He forced a smile, holding the coin between his thumb and index finger as he walked away from the elderly elf.

Rick slipped the shimmering gold coin out of its case, turning it over in his hand. He made out the name of the town and the words 'Festival of Lights' on the face. He dropped the case in a nearby trash bin, slipping the coin into his pocket.

He supposed it would serve as a piece of memorabilia of sorts for t that particular moment where he had a brush with his past.

He looked over his shoulder one last time, searching the place he last saw her.

As if she were a specter his mind conjured up, she was gone.

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 **Thoughts? Let me know in the reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Thanks for all the amazing reviews of the first chapter! I personally view this is as a happy story. It's about falling in love. If you've guessed where I'm going with this, it's going to be a fun ride. So, here we have Chapter 2 which I intended to post like two days ago, but I've been nervously holding on to it. Hope you guys like this one!

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 **Chapter 2**

For as long as he knew her, Michonne had an uncanny tendency of always being right. The following day was an instance where that rightness was still present.

The world was certainly far too small.

It was the morning following their run-in and Rick —wanting to get away from his questioning mother— ventured out to a Market Street coffee shop for some deep introspection on the current state of his life.

That was when he saw her.

Michonne was sitting at the far side of the quaint little shop, sipping from a teacup while staring intently at her laptop screen. As if she felt him staring, her eyes rose to meet his and she offered him a tentative smile.

"Hey," he said, walking over to where she was sitting. It seemed like the friendly thing to do since apparently they weren't on as bad terms as he originally thought. "I see we're going to keep running into each other."

"Seems so."

Rick attempted to inconspicuously survey their surroundings, in search of her fiancé, emerging from some previously unseen nook.

"I'm an early riser," she explained. He remembered that much about her. "I thought I'd surprise everyone back at the B&B with some of the best coffee this town has to offer."

"Yeah, I came for the coffee too."

She closed the laptop, smiling up at him with that same look of uncertainty. "You can sit, if you want. I don't know if you still wanted to talk."

From the overhead speakers, Eartha Kitt's uniquely sensual voice crooned on about extravagant Christmas gifts while Rick's gaze shifted between Michonne's deep brown eyes and the table.

"I don't want to im–"

"It's fine. I was gonna be here awhile anyway."

He pulled out the chair across from her, slowly slipping down into it. "Work?" he questioned, pointing to the laptop to make conversation.

"Yeah. Even on vacation, it's really hard to get away from everything. There's the so much I want to get done."

"What do you do?"

"I work in medical research," she responded vaguely.

A waitress showed up and he ordered coffee and sausage, egg and cheese on a plain bagel. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, once the woman had left to get his breakfast.

Michonne quirked a brow. "For what?"

"Everything. How things ended between us."

"It wasn't meant to be," she said simply. "No need to apologize for something like that. We thought we were in love and neither of us knew how to do that maturely. We're both over it now, so it's fine."

"Yeah I just—"

"So I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop acting like that," she said coolly. "I'm not some broken-hearted girl you think you left behind. We're both fine. No hard feelings."

"I know." It made sense. After everything, it seemed like it was him who couldn't let go. At least Sasha apparently still held some contempt for him for supposedly breaking her sister's heart.

Rick and Michonne always had a close relationship. Scarily so, at times. They were each other's first love and for a long time he was ecstatically convinced that she was the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

He was one year ahead of her in school and as he entered his last year, their easy going relationship started facing real challenges. Challenges one would face upon entering adulthood. On top of all that, neither of their families was pleased pleased with the way they were essentially structuring their young lives around each other. Rick was on the verge of giving up a full ride just to remain home an extra year with Michonne and when her time came around she was prepared to make an even more drastic decision.

Countless arguments and a pregnancy scare later, it took Michonne herself to finally convince him that a brief separation would be best.

It wasn't until the fall after he left (right on the cusp of December), that their brief separation became a permanent one.

"What about you? What do you do?"

"I didn't go to law school like I said I would." He was sure she remembered the plans they made centered around that dream. "I actually sort of fell into photojournalism."

"That sounds pretty interesting. Adventurous," she said, impressed. "Will I be hearing about a Pulitzer soon?"

Rick laughed. "I don't know about that." He told her about his trips abroad and his recent work with Wildlife sanctuaries to help end animal poaching.

"You know, I was supposed to be the one super into the environment and all that stuff," she teased. "Personality wise."

"Yeah, I distinctly remember you being the one who called the high school Biology teacher a heartless psychopath and tried to stage a protest against frog dissections."

Michonne erupted into a fit of laughter at the memory.

"Then you threatened to dissect _her_."

"I did not!" She defended, through breathless laughter. She said it a bit louder than intended, earning them a few stares. "You weren't even there for that part. This is how it happened. I asked her how would she feel if I _had to_ dissect her. She wouldn't like being sliced open with a sword or something the way she was slicing them with that scalpel. The woman just took half of what I said and ran with it."

"She told the principal you threatened her!" He shook his head, chuckling at the memory. "That lady was an overdramatic mess."

"She really was. I was just an impassioned teenager with a stubborn streak. I had very strong beliefs and I didn't let go of them easily." She pounded her fist against the palm of her other hand, barely holding back laughter.

"So, I take it you're not into that sort of research."

She bit her lip, fighting a sheepish smile. "Would you believe me if I told you those impassioned beliefs sort of changed a little?"

He shrugged. "It's part of growing and maturing."

"Well, I had to make a few amendments for the greater good. I'm not totally against it."

"I wonder what happened to her."

Michonne's eyes filled with mischief and she shot him a wide grin. In that moment, it felt like old times. The Michonne he grew up with, fell in love with, and locked away in the back of his mind was sitting across from him with her breathtaking smile, conjuring up nostalgic feelings. "You think she still lives in town?"

"Maybe." His mouth curved into a smile to match her humorous mood. "Why? You want to apologize to her?"

"Hell no," she snickered. "After all the trouble she got me into? I was actually thinking of collecting an apology."

"You're definitely the same you." That was what he liked the most about her. Whenever they were together, there was never a missed opportunity for laughter and conversation. There was never any pressure to fill silence with needless chatter either.

They were comfortable.

The waitress returned with his breakfast, just as Bobby Helms' Jingle Bell Rock came through the overhead speakers. "If it's one thing I hate about this season, it's the annoying Christmas music."

"Are you kidding? That's the best part!" She exclaimed, lightly swatting his shoulder. "When did you turn into Ebenezer Scrooge?"

"It's the same twenty songs over and over again in an endless loop and it's everywhere. It's honestly a little scary."

"It does get a little repetitive," She agreed, taking a sip from her cup. "It's all snow, Santa, and presents. But still. It's only once a year you get to hear it."

"That's still way too much for me."

She regarded him carefully with her big brown eyes and it honestly felt like she was staring into his soul. He knew she was probably wondering about his current disdain for the holiday season when as far as she remembered he was dispassionate the worst when it came to the holiday season.

"My family still goes all out. The B&B looks like a Winter Wonderland," she shared.

Her parents owned a local Bed and Breakfast. They never named the place, so everyone referred to it as "The Bed and Breakfast" (it was the only one of its in the area for a long time) or "The B&B."

He remembered the nights when he would sneak over. She'd slip out of her bedroom window and they would lay underneath the stars enjoying each other's silent company.

"My mother also has her Christmas playlist on repeat," she continued. "All the classics."

"You must love that."

"That's where I got the holiday season fanaticism I used to have from." She nodded. "Sasha's a Scrooge like you, so she's starting to get extremely annoyed. I'm not quite as crazy about the celebrations as I used to be though. I mean, I'm sure you remember. I used to go nuts."

"Oh I remember." He gave her a small smile. "The new headgear and accessories every day of the month leading up to Christmas. There were reindeer antlers, the elf hats in multiple colors, the elf ears, the sweaters… I could go on," he teased.

Michonne smiled, but didn't give the sarcastic teasing reply he had been trying to evoke. There was a certain sadness in her eyes and he could almost physically feel her retreating into herself and putting up a barrier between them.

She cleared her throat, fiddling with the zipper of her laptop sleeve. "Yeah, I went all out."

"So…" He wanted to ask a question, but he was hesitant of shifting the lighthearted mood even further in the other direction. Then he figured it couldn't do any more harm than what had already been done. "When's the wedding?"

She opened her mouth to respond and then she froze. It was a fleeting moment, but he noticed. "Oh, mine?"

"Yeah."

"Uhm...we haven't set a date yet." She looked everywhere, but at him. "It's probably going to be a long engagement. I mean, it will be. We agreed on that. The two of us...There's no rush to have some grand thing."

"I'm happy for you," he said truthfully. His heart was heavy, but he always wished the best for her and if her happiness was someone else, he'd be okay with it. "You seem to have everything together. Just like I knew you would."

"That's what everybody says," she replied with a humorless laugh.

"You don't agree?"

Instead of answering the question, she posed a different one. One she had probably been wanting to ask for a long time. "You asked me why I never came back," she started. "Why didn't you?"

There was more to her question. Back then, he had a habit for self-sabotaging behavior. That was the entire root of the end of their relationship.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to formulate an answer. "I thought it was for the best. I wanted to give you time to move on because I thought everybody was right."

"You thought we'd hold each other back," she said, repeating his first parting words.

"We didn't make good decisions together. Michonne, you were planning to run off with me. I know I asked, but...and then I went off to college and got caught up with experiences—"

"And had the nerve to get mad at me over a date you didn't even know the details of. Like I was supposed to..."

"Wait for me?"

"I did and that wasn't what I was going to say," she said. "But I get it. You didn't have a reason to come back either."

"We were such idiots."

"Maybe we still are." She smiled and he knew she wasn't upset with him. "I didn't mean it, you know," she said so quietly, he almost thought he didn't hear it. He was going to ask her to elaborate, but he knew what she meant.

" _Well go then," younger Michonne screamed through teary eyes. "Go back to your stupid new life. I really don't give a fuck. Just go back and stay there because I don't ever want to see you again." They woke up her entire house and the B &B guests in the process._

Michonne touched the home button on her cell phone, checking the time. "I should head home. Everyone will probably start wondering where I disappeared to. I didn't leave a note or anything."

"Oh right," he said, remembering where they were. "I should get going to. I have...things to do."

He lied. He had nothing else to do.

He sat quietly as she gathered her things from the table and when to the front counter to get the 'coffee to go' that she came for. She bid him a hasty goodbye and disappeared out the front entrance.

 **~OUAC~**

Rick spent the rest of the day avoiding the festivities, which had a tendency to overtake every corner of the town. In the later part of the day, he left his parents' overly festive house in search of some respite. He knew better than to return in time for dinner. Although she attempted to not make it too obvious, he knew his mother was planning to set him up with the new woman in town.

Sometime after six in the evening he found solace when he came across a quiet-looking bar about a mile outside town. It was the only place, seemingly untouched by the season.

He opened the old wooden door with the worn sign and the sharp scent of stale beer and peanuts wafted out and it calmed him.

The inside of the bar was very simple. There were gray stone floors and wooden paneling. Some tables were spread about the far side of the building and the long counter of the bar stood at the center.

Johnny Cash was singing about prison blues.

He approached the seemingly deserted bar and pulled out a creaky wooden bar stool as he searched for a bartender. There were only two other people there. A woman fiddling with the jukebox and a man slumped over a table, passed out drunk. He prayed the woman would leave Johnny alone and not attempt to replace him with saccharine Christmas music.

"Hello?"

"Hey there! What can I get you?" A familiar voice asked.

Mr. Horvath was standing behind the bar. This time in a dusty brown sport coat instead of his bright green elf costume.

"Mr. Horvath? You work here?" Rick asked incredulously.

"Elves are only in demand once a year. Gotta do something to make ends meet on the off season," he said distractedly as he started searching the bar shelves behind him. "Call me Dale."

He retrieved a jar from the lower shelf, holding it up questioningly in Rick's direction. "Moonshine?"

"If it's strong, I'll take it," he shrugged.

"Got something on your mind?" He poured out a small amount for Rick and some for himself.

"Yeah. You could say that. That's why I'm here to escape my troubles." He didn't intend to make it to dinner with his parents and neighbor. He glanced up at the clock above the bar, noticing that both hands were stuck on twelve o'clock. He was glad he wouldn't have a constant reminder of the passing time.

"God, I love this job. Bar stories are the best," Dale grinned, gulping down his share. "It's a woman." It wasn't a question.

For some reason, Rick decided to tell the man exactly what was bothering him. After all, what else would one do at an empty bar with an inquisitive bartender.

"Yeah, it's a woman. I used to date her back in high school and into my first year of college," he said. "She grew up around here too. I haven't seen her in like twelve years and all of a sudden here she is. It just...it brought back a lot and now I guess I'm realizing in hindsight that I have a lot of regrets and it bothers me more than I think it should."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Well, I thought I broke her heart. I was trying to," he confessed. "I loved her, but I didn't know how. Everybody was telling us it wouldn't work and she was about to give up her dream school in California to be closer to me. I couldn't let her do that and I made everything worse instead of just talking to her."

"Sounds like a complicated situation."

"Tell me about it." He groaned, knocking back the drink. "I should have stayed in New York. I didn't come here to relive my past relationship drama. I'm just trying to be a less shitty son."

Dale watched him silently. "Well why don't you apologize to her? Make amends and try again."

"I did apologize. She didn't want an apology. She's completely unaffected by all this," he said, baffled. "What's even worse is that she's here with her fiancé. I would be here with mine too, but I realized couldn't stand her and she couldn't stand me, so we called it off instead of spending years, making each other miserable before divorcing after 1.5 kids."

There was a glimmer of understanding in Dale's eyes. "The one that got away."

"I just...I don't even know why I'm bothered by this," he sighed. "Maybe because there was no closure. We ended things kind of abruptly and went our separate ways."

"And the fiancé. What's he like?"

"I don't know. I never met the guy, but I'm sure he makes her happy. Better than I would have been able to."

"You think so?"

Rick didn't respond. He wasn't sure that he knew the answer to that question. He ordered another drink instead.

As Dale started preparing his drink, Rick reached into his coat pocket in search of his phone to distract himself and to avoid spilling even more of his person business to a practical stranger.

His hand brushed against something small, round, and metallic. He pulled it out, examining the golden coin Dale had gifted him the day before. He balanced the golden coin between his fingers.

"I bet you wish you could do it all again," Dale said. "Wish you could see what would happen if you two had stuck it out, instead of listening to everybody, but each other."

"Well, what's done is done. I try not to live life with too many 'what if's'. It's not like I can go back and change any of it."

"We don't always get what we _try_ for." He smiled and something about it gave Rick pause. It was almost as if he knew a secret Rick didn't know. "Sure, I wish I could do it again, but that's useless. Things are already the way they are and I just have to live with it."

Dale's eyes followed the movement of the coin in Rick's hand as he placed the drink in front of him.

As he shifted on the stool to reach for the drink, the coin dropped to the floor. It was almost as if it leapt out of his nimble fingers. As if there was an external force pulling it away.

As he went to retrieve it, he had an odd tingling feeling inside. He nearly tripped over his feet in surprise at the seemingly vibrating air and the eerie feeling in his bones.

He felt as if his limbs were elongating, but visually he seemed completely fine. As did everything else around him.

"You okay?" asked Dale.

"Yeah," he replied, absently looking around the now empty bar. He didn't hear them leave. "I just had a really weird feeling. Like goosebumps." He looked down at the little raised circles on his arm, shaking his head. "I really should have stayed in New York."

"You never know." Dale leaned against the counter, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he took in a conflicted Rick. "Things can always flip in your favor and then you might be singing a different tune."

"I doubt that," Rick said dismissively, reaching for his drink as he reclaimed his seat at the bar.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **Still here? A lot is happening with Rick. Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is Christmas treat for you all! Rick is having quite the Christmas holiday.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Rick awoke with a pounding headache.

He opened his eyes, only to shut them and cover his face with the back of his hand. The room was far too bright. He didn't remember leaving the drapes open when he fell asleep the night before. In fact, he didn't even remember falling asleep.

The room's brightness, plus the fact that loud Christmas music seemingly emanated from everywhere around him only exacerbated the hammering pain in his head. "What the hell is this?"

 _A beautiful sight_

 _We're happy tonight_

 _Walking in a winter wonderland_

He rolled over onto his stomach, pulling his pillow over his head to drown out the noise. He didn't think he drank anything he night before, but it felt as if he had a massive hangover.

He idly wondered if the jolly Christmas songs was his mother's way of driving him crazy in hopes of him either running back into Lori's waiting clutches or into the arms of some other woman she was fond of. She knew how much he grew to dislike these things, yet here she was blasting it at full volume.

Did she bring a stereo system into his bedroom?

He wished he had stayed at the Rhees instead. They would have the decency to not torture him like this.

"Turn it off!" He yelled, but the sound came out muffled through the pillows.

"That's it!" He flipped over onto his back, sitting up in bed, determined to end the ear splitting noise by any means necessary. That included smashing the stereo.

Instead of seeing his childhood bedroom—which now looked like a generic, impersonal guest room—he found unfamiliar surroundings.

He could see that he was in the bedroom of an apartment. He knew it was an apartment because he could see the other side and into a living room and kitchen through the doorless bedroom entrance, which consisted of a large arch the size of two and a half doors.

Besides the unique layout, the apartment looked like the Christmas decoration section of a department store exploded, leaving tinsel, lights and ornaments on every surface.

The place _felt_ familiar, as if he had been there before. Yet, he didn't recognize anything in the spacious studio apartment.

Not the curtains, not the king sized snowflake covered bed, not the too-large for the room Christmas tree nor the flashing green, red, blue and yellow lights that lined the walls.

 _To face unafraid_

 _The plans that we've made_

 _Walking in a winter wonderland_

He had no recollection of his arrival to this place and he silently hoped the explanation wasn't an alarming one.

The door across the room suddenly swung open, startling Rick. He heard _her_ voice before he saw her. "I got bagels and coffee!"

His heart skipped a beat as he gaped wide-eyed at the door. "Michonne?"

Did she pick him up from the bar? He couldn't remember much of what happened the day before. He remembered seeing her that day. He had memories of their meeting at breakfast, but not much after that.

"Yes," she stretched out the single syllable in a singsong manner. The playfulness in her tone left his head spinning with confusion. "Who else would it be? You're having a sordid affair with our landlady or something?"

She stepped into his line of sight, dropping the paper bag and drink tray she was holding on the kitchen table. She kicked off her sneakers, picking them up and setting them neatly on a rack by the door.

"Happy Christmas Eve Eve!" She reminded him of the Michonne he knew twelve years ago. "You'll never guess who I ran into at the coffee shop. You remember that congresswoman, I met last year at my internship dala? Deanna Monroe? Well we got to chatting about the NIH training program I'm interested in and she had some great advice."

 _Gone away is the bluebird_

 _Here to stay is a new bird_

 _He sings a love song as we go along_

 _Walking in a winter wonderland_

"Where am I?" He held his still pounding head, trying to make sense of the overly festive environment.

"Okay, somebody had way too much to drink last night." She turned around and that was when he realized that her hair was different. In fact, overall there was a difference in her. "We're at home."

Had she grown even more youthful overnight?

"We drank?" He asked, confused. "The last place I saw you was at the diner yesterday morning and the last thing I remember is…"

 _The bar! Dale!_

"Diner?" She looked perplexed.

The shrill ringing of a cell phone interrupted his train of thought.

"Oh that must be Sasha. We're supposed to be getting ready Rick. I was nice enough to let you sleep in, but come on."

"I'm so confused, right now."

"Hey sis," she sang into the phone as the loud music stopped abruptly. "What's up?"

Rick dropped back against the bed, thankful for the noise ending. He closed his eyes, listening to Michonne —who was likely a figment of his clearly overactive imagination—as she spoke to her sister.

"Yeah, I might drive though," she said. "He had way too much to drink last night, so he's hungover. Lucky bastard."

 _That must have been a hell of a moonshine. I'm gonna go back to sleep and when I wake up this little fantasy will be over._

Her voice became a soothing background noise as she chatted with her sister. He remembered how close they used to be which was partially due to their closeness in age.

"What time do you want to leave, Rick? We gotta try to make it home way before dinner."

"Leave?"

"Is the thought of going back home really that bad? The car ride isn't even that long. We made it in no time the last time we were there." He felt the bed dip beside him.

He kept his eyes shut, wanting to revel in his auditory hallucination before he opened his eyes and everything was back to normal. He was almost certain that it wasn't a hangover symptom, but it was the only explanation he was willing to accept at the moment.

Alcohol induced psychosis.

If that was an actual thing.

"We could call and cancel if you want," she said softly. "We can spend a lazy day in bed and just leave tomorrow instead. Yesterday was a lot. I know."

Rick opened one eye, peeking in the direction of Michonne's voice. She was lying beside him, her brown eyes staring back at him.

"Are you supposed to get that drunk at someone else's bachelor party? Maybe you should have left that to the groom."

It seemed like a dream, but it felt real.

Her brow furrowed. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me as if you've seen a ghost?" She laughed, but he saw the worry and concerned suspicion in her eyes."

"That's because the last thing I remember is sitting at a bar with an elf cosplayer. My memories..."

"Rick." Her tone was one of light admonishment. She hitched a leg over his hips, boosting herself over to straddle him. "How much did you guys drink?"

He decided he was lucid dreaming and if that was the case, he was in control of this narrative. He'd enjoy it while it lasted.

"So, we're going home for Christmas?"

"...Yeah." She ran her hand through the top of his hair and he realized then that his hair seemed longer. "It's literally what I've been talking about for the past five minutes."

"I don't…"

 _What the hell is happening here? Am I lying somewhere in a coma and imagining what my life could have been?_

She lay her head against his chest, still running her hand through his hair. "You're starting to scare me. You hit your head or something?"

His mind was racing a mile a minute. This felt real, but he knew it wasn't. It couldn't be real. Reality doesn't just change overnight. He had clearly lost his mind. His thoughts went to Dale again and wondered if he had something to do with this. He was the last person he remembered talking to before he woke up here.

Maybe he slipped him some kind of hallucinogen.

"I think maybe I did. Things are...fuzzy. I don't remember much beyond yesterday morning, but...this isn't real."

 _This isn't my life._

Her head popped up and her eyes were alarmed. "Should we go to a doctor or something?" She lightly pressed her palm against his forehead. "That can't be good, right? Memory loss is something people should visit a doctor about. There could be damage or..."

"No. I think I'll be fine. Don't worry." Although he was certain she wasn't real and he was on the brink of insanity, he didn't want to alarm her. "We should do whatever it is we had planned for today."

He was curious to find out what exactly that would entail.

She observed him quietly. "Maybe I should drive."

"How long is the drive?"

She gave him that look again. The one that indicated she was worried about his state of mind. "It's two hours and forty-five minutes Rick."

"That's right. I'm sorry, I just…"

"Are you sure you're okay? I think maybe you should sleep whatever this is off in the car because, you're acting really strange and loopy," she said, leaning forward and kissing him lightly on the lips. Her lips felt like he remembered, but better. "You're even keeping your hands to yourself, which is honestly the most bizarre thing ever."

She moved her lower body against his suggestively and he knew exactly what she meant.

"I'm gonna go finish packing," she said, slowly crawling down his body and getting to her feet. He couldn't deny that it had an effect on him.

"Ten days with the family." She held up her ten fingers and he saw a flash of gold and noticed the underside of the band of two rings on the ring finger of her left h. "Can you believe it?"

He slowly lifted his left hand to eye level finding a gold band of his own.

"Oh I almost forgot the ultrasounds," she exclaimed, hastily shuffling across the room and retrieving a bag from the closet. "I sent my mom the picture, but she is adamant about holding the physical paper with her grandchild's first picture in her hands."

He opened his mouth to ask if they were having a baby, but then he figured the implications were too clear. Asking the question would only have her further, insisting that he visit a doctor.

Though as he thought of it, it probably wasn't a bad idea. He did wake up in a seemingly knew life under circumstances, he couldn't quite put together.

He sat up in bed again, taking more to to survey his surroundings. He spotted a framed wedding photograph across the room and from where he sat, it looked as if it were his and Michonne's.

He watched Michonne carefully, searching for signs of pregnancy, but not finding any due to her bulky ugly Christmas sweater.

Perhaps getting out of the apartment and seeing the outside world would put things more into perspective. If he was dreaming, he was interested in seeing the version of the larger world that his mind would conjure up. That would certainly require more detail than a small apartment.

Michonne moved around the room like a tornado. He remembered how excited she got around this time of year and her behavior was just as he remembered. She hummed the melody of _Sleigh Ride_ as she gathered the last of her things and set them by the door.

"Eat," she said, tossing the paper bag in his lap before handing him the takeaway coffee cup. "You're so lucky you get to have all the caffeine and alcohol you want while I have to go without for the next few months. That hangover is punishment."

"Sure as hell feels like it," he groaned.

"You want me to make you some of that hangover cure smoothie? Shane gave me the recipe."

He had no idea who this Shane person was.

"I don't think we have any more coconut oil though," she continued, thinking out loud as she gathered the ingredients.

"Okay." Rick took a bite of his bagel and a sip of coffee. They tasted like the real thing. He couldn't remember if he ever tasted anything in a dream before, but he doubted he had.

He set the food aside on the bedside table and rose to his feet. Michonne's eyes followed him as if she were afraid he would fall. Though, maybe that might wake him up.

He ambled toward the slightly ajar bathroom and was stunned silent when he entered and caught sight of his reflection. He didn't even react to the pine tinsel garland encircling the mirror or the themed hand towels.

"What the fuck?" He managed to whisper as he touched his face. He looked different. He wasn't sure if rejuvenated was the right word to describe his face, but he certainly looked more youthful than he did the day before.

 _This isn't me._

While the almost thirty-two year old version of himself certainly didn't look _old,_ there were marked differences in his current features. The faint lines that had formed at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead had disappeared. His hair was also a few inches longer than he remembered wearing it and the cut was also completely different.

Hair doesn't grow overnight.

He slapped the palms against his cheek, turning his head this was and that, attempting to make sense of what he was seeing. "Impossible," he whispered. "What's happening to me?"

A pantless Michonne entered the bathroom behind him. "All done. Smoothie's in the blender," she announced. She stood, watching his stunned expression through the mirror for some time. "We both know you're handsome, Rick. No need to act so surprised. It makes you look vain," she teased, swatting his side.

"I'm gonna grab a shower now." She lifted the front of her ugly sweater, raising it over her head and tossing it aside.

With the sweater gone, he could finally see the slight swelling of her stomach. He could also see that she wasn't wearing a bra under the hideous sweater.

She shifted the shower curtain aside, looking back at him over her shoulder with those deep brown eyes that suggested she had something arousing on her mind.

She slowly slipped out of her underwear stepping into the shower and starting the water. Seeing that sensual display was definitely arousing, but Rick couldn't fully turn his mind off and enjoy the bizarrely realistic dream.

"You coming?" She called from behind the curtain.

"No, I have a thing to do...Hey, I forgot," he lied, wanting to press her for more information about her reality and to find out where exactly he was and what was happening to him. "You know where I left my laptop?"

He had to have a laptop.

"In your bag by the closet door."

"Thanks!"

He was going to do some research. While the logical part of his brain would like to believe this was dreamland. The other parts were screaming with suspicion of this being something else. It was possibly beyond his understanding.

He opened the laptop, drowning out Michonne's display in the bathroom that was imprinted in his mind. If he partook in the strangely vivid encounter, he doubted his mind could handle it.

When it was booted up, he let out a gasp followed by a gargled yelp at the date in the bottom right hand corner.

 **December 23, 2010**

That was four years after their breakup. He shook his head, opening the web browser and typing:

 **What year is it?**

Everything indicated that it was in fact the year 2010. Why he was having a dream that took place eight years in the past, he didn't know. It had to be a dream because this wasn't how he spent December 23rd eight years ago.

He was certain of that.

He was also certain that he once heard —maybe in a college psychology class—that people couldn't read in dreams.

He felt his headache strengthening, so he took a sip of Michonne's Smoothie and nearly spit the foul drink out. Whoever this Shane person was, he almost hated him for being the mind behind this supposed hangover cure.

"I'll stick with pain medication," he muttered.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and continued on to searched whether time traveling to the past was possible. He didn't believe it was, but you'd find "true" stories about the strangest things on the internet. Knowing how these things work, he would probably end up with the conclusion that he had been abducted by an alien life form.

Various results referenced Albert Einstein and the theory of Special Relativity. There were also countless sources speculating that time travel to the future was possible because people are essentially traveling forward through time as it progresses.

As for the past, the answer was less definitive. It ranged from a resounding 'no' to a hesitant 'maybe'. Yet, there he sat in a body that was eight years younger married to a woman who he hadn't interacted with in twelve years.

It had to be a dream.

Michonne materialized from the bathroom in the midst of his research and he had to excuse himself to have a shower while she changed into a slightly less hideous gingerbread man sweater.

Her Holiday cheer brought about a nostalgia that gave him an even greater urge to simply live in the peculiar moment.

Rick went about the rest of the "morning routine" him following her lead, because while he wanted to know why he woke up to this, he couldn't deny that he was finding some comfort and enjoyment in it.

He listened as she expressed her happiness about going home. Apparently they had only gotten married earlier that year.

He assisted her—or in other words did all of the manual labor—carry the bags to their black Ford sedan.

Once the car was loaded, they set off to their hometown together. He had made the same trip two days before, but this time he felt more content. He took the opportunity to sleep and plan out how he would go about finding the 2010 version of Dale Horvath.

Something told him he would be in for even more surprises when and if he finally crossed paths with the man.

* * *

 **There you have it. Rick is in for a few more surprises.**

 **Enjoy the rest of your holidays!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the amazing reviews of the last chapter. Sorry about the long delay. I meant to post this since December, but things got really busy and here we are in February. The holiday season is long gone, but I'll finish this up. Christmas in February!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

"We're here," Michonne announced, pulling into the driveway of her childhood home.

The large Victorian-style house with a painted wooden sign outside, welcoming visitors to the cozy hostelry was the last place he saw Michonne before their less than amicable separation. As if watching through a window in his memory, he saw his conflicted younger self darting across the lawn in the darkness of the night. "I haven't seen this place in years."

In the years following their breakup he was resolute in his determination to resist everything Michonne related. That included avoiding driving down the street she lived on.

"Yeah," Michonne snorted. "It sure feels like years since we been here, huh? You must miss that good 'ol Dubois home cooking. I know I do."

They exited the car and Rick began hauling the luggage out of the car while Michonne stared up at the house with it's snow-covered rooftop and window panes. "It's so good to be home." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and smiled up at the sky.

He hoisted a carry on bag in each arm and one over his shoulder as they approached the Prussian blue house.

Even from outside, it was obvious that the DuBois family were holiday enthusiasts.

The evergreen tree outside the house was decorated in a manner that would rival the Market Square tree. Christmas lights lined the outside of the house and he was sure their garish light would attract the attention of all passerby's once they were turned on that night. As they walked up the pathway lined with snowflake markers that lead to the front steps, they passed a family of glittering champagne reindeer, planted firmly on the snow capped lawn.

The garland draped front doors burst open and the couple was greeted with a high pitched squeal. "Look at my baby!" Marie, Michonne's mother, opened her arms to embrace a bouncing Michonne.

Michonne enthusiastically returned the hug. "Hey Mom!"

"You even got a little more meat on you. Look at those cheeks!"

It was a truly baffling encounter for Rick because the last time he was inside that house the older DuBois woman was—not so kindly—asking him to leave after the commotion of him and Michonne's breakup.

" _What's going on in here?" Michonne's father, James, had asked, bursting into the room with his wife hot on his heel._

 _At the time, Michonne refused to speak another word. She crossed her and looking away from him. There was hurt in her eyes._

" _Rick," Marie had said calmly. "I don't know why you're here at this hour, but I need you to leave my house. Out!"_

Now, it was supposedly four years after the fact and all was well because after she finished showering Michonne with motherly love, she pulled him into a hug for his share of love.

"So good to see you two after all these months," she said, looking them over with a proud smile. "We have a lot of catching up to do. Everyone is here already. They're all inside."

The house was filled with loud voices, laughter and music. They walked down the familiar hallway, leading to the large family room reserved for gatherings like this one. Michonne's sister was there along with three other family members he didn't recognize and their two young children.

 _I'll be home for christmas;_

 _You can plan on me._

"Is that my favorite sister?" Sasha called out to her only sister.

Michonne did a little twirl as she removed the coat that covered her oversized sweater. "In the flesh."

Rick watched in astonished silence as the sisters embraced and was stunned silent and almost immobile when Sasha wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace.

 _Christmas eve will find me_

 _Where the love light gleams._

 _I'll be home for christmas_

 _If only in my dreams._

There was a flurry of hugs and congratulations. He learned that the three other family members were Michonne's uncle, her cousin, and his wife and two children. Apparently they all attended his and Michonne's wedding.

"How was Belize?" Michonne asked her adventurous sister who had just returned from her semester abroad.

"Amazing! I visited The Great Blue Hole while I was there. You _know_ that was on my bucket list."

"That's really cool. I can't wait to see the pictures."

"You guys should really consider Belize for your honeymoon, when you decide to have a real one," Sasha said, nudging Rick's side. "Did you guys find a new place yet?"

Michonne's hand instinctively moved to her slightly protruding stomach. "We're working on it...Sort of."

"Alright alright. Everybody settle down. Let's give Michonne and Rick a chance to get settled in. We can fawn over them later," Michonne's father announced.

"Yeah, I've got a crazy amount of energy in the morning and then comes the sudden extreme tiredness and then the crash," Michonne laughed.

"You know the way," her mother smiled. "Are your parents still coming, Rick?"

Parents?

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was still trying to wrap his head around this picture perfect life and the big happy family.

"Yeah, you said your parents will be here tomorrow. Maggie and Glenn too, right?" Michonne asked, looking up at him as if he was supposed to know the answer to that question.

He knew his headache and confusing behavior from earlier that day still had her worried.

"Yeah." There wasn't much else he could say since he hadn't the slightest idea what was happening or why his family was even coming. They were friendly, but certainly not close enough to celebrate the holidays together.

 **~OUACT~**

"This is so strange," Rick commented as he looked out the window of Michonne's old bedroom. It was just as he remembered with its blue walls with gold trim.

The large desk by the window was bare with the exception of a small twinkling tabletop Christmas tree. Michonne kept it clear because when he would climb through the window from the lower level roof, he'd often knock things over, causing unwanted noise.

Michonne, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of her bed, looked up from the papers she was studiously flipping through. "What is?"

"They were always lecturing us about not moving too fast at our age and yet, here we are. We couldn't have moved faster. Four years later we're newly married with a kid on the way."

She winked. "Good thing we didn't listen, then."

"How are we gonna raise a baby in that tiny apartment?"

"You're the one that keeps saying we have five months to figure it all out," she said, attempting to mimic his voice and failing miserably. "Come lie down. You're still acting all loopy and it's bothering me."

"What's that?" He nodded toward the glossy papers in her hands.

She held the papers up, revealing they were flyers for the Festival of Lights. "We should go tonight if you're up to it. I have some last minute things I want to get and I have the perfect gift idea for the baby."

He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm and the over-preparation that was characteristic for her. "It's not even born yet."

"He," she corrected, playfully narrowing her eyes at him.

"We found out the gender?" He blurted out.

"No," she said slowly, still eyeing him suspiciously. "They didn't get a clear view, remember?" She placed her hand on her stomach, covering the legs of the gingerbread man on her sweater. "He refused to change positions. Already stubborn like his father who refuses to get checked out by a doctor after hitting his head. Hopefully next time he cooperates and proves to you all that I'm right."

"Yeah. Hopefully."

Michonne gasped dramatically, placing a hand delicately on her chest. "Did you just agree with me? I'm sensing you're wavering on the whole it's a girl idea." She held out a hand, beckoning him over. "Come. Lie down with me. Maybe we both need a nap."

Rick walked over, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. "What was the gift idea?"

"Mom said it's a customary thing to gift a baby with silver items, remember? We were talking about this the other night."

"Oh, wow. Is that something the parents do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but I really want to get him something. You said it was a good idea when I first brought it up. I'm thinking maybe some silver bangles or a rattle."

"You can get that online. Why do we have to go through that overcrowded festival to get it?"

"Alright, what's going on here?" she asked. "Everything out of your mouth is getting more and more bizarre. It's like you barely remember anything. Does your head still hurt?"

Rick placed his head in his hands. "I wish I knew what was going on too. Believe me, I'm just as confused as you are."

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe. You're confused, but I think our confusion is different," she said,uncrossing her legs and crawling to the edge of the bed where he sat. "Something's different here. Rick, I really think you should consider getting checked out by a doctor. You could have a head injury."

"Maybe you're right," he agreed. A head injury sounded more plausible than time travel and alternate dimensions. Although, if he did have a head injury the possibility of it being a dream while in a comatose state couldn't be ruled out. If this wasn't real, then any doctor he saw wouldn't be real either.

She ran a hand through his hair, resting her head on his shoulder. "So...do you still have a headache?"

"No. I feel pretty normal actually," he admitted. "Aside from the confusion." _And the fact that none of this is real._

"I'll ask Mom if she can suggest anything," she said. "She always has a solution."

"How about we worry about that later." He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with her. "I know you're tired. You woke up early and we drove all the way here. This doesn't feel like a pressing thing. I think I'm gonna get some fresh air for a bit. Get some rest, I'll be right back."

"If I can rest with this. You're worrying me."

He placed a kiss on her forehead. "Nothing to worry about. This isn't real and I'll be fine once I get some fresh air."

"Rick I—"

"I've just had a lot on my mind these past few weeks," he lied. "It's stress."

That didn't seem to ease her mind. "What has you stressed? Is it...oh God...Is that why you were talking about moving too fast? You think we moved too fast? Where is this coming from? I don't—"

"No, I have no idea if we moved too fast because it's not like I can see the future. I barely know what's happening now. I literally woke up in this life. Yesterday, I was single and just drifting through life and taking what comes at me and now today everything seems to have gone backwards and I'm married with a kid on the way."

Michonne didn't say anything. She just stared back at him impassively. "Okay, get some air if that's what you need," she finally said. "I don't want either of us to say something we'll regret and I think we're about to toe that line. We'll talk later."

She moved back to sit against the wooden headboard, crossing her arms across her chest.

That's how he knew this was too good to be true. Even in this dreamland, he was already beginning to shatter a seemingly perfect relationship.

"I'm sorry." He turned around attempting to make eye contact. "I um...I didn't mean that. I'm not mad at you and I don't have doubts about you. I'm just...it's a work thing, okay?"

She didn't respond.

"I feel like an asshole," he sighed. "I don't want you to be unhappy during your favorite holiday."

"You're sure you feel alright?" she asked.

"Completely fine."

"Then when you're ready, we can talk. If something is bothering you, I'm here and I'll listen."

 _Too perfect to be mine,_ he thought.

"Sorry about all that...out there stuff I just said. Ignore it. I didn't explain myself well, but don't worry. I will once I get back, okay? I need some water and some air."

She blew out a breath of air, shutting her eyes. "Get some air. There's always makeup sex." A trace of a smile was forming on her lips and it reminded him of the days when she never stayed upset with him for long. She always had the calm, rational mind and the positive outlook on life.

 _Far too perfect._

 **~OUACT~**

When he slipped downstairs, he could hear the clamor of Michonne's family conversing over the loud Christmas. He easily bypassed any prying questions and slunk out the front door in a manner reminiscent of his teenage years.

"Headed out?" He heard Michonne's father before he saw him standing on the walkway, holding a large wire reindeer in his arms.

"Yeah...I just have a thing to…"

"Michonne sending you out on a snack run?" James guessed with an amused smile. "It happens to the best of us."

"Yeah," he chuckled, tensely.

"This guy fell over," James explained, referring to the reindeer in his arms. "The antlers crooked now." He looked around with a furrowed brow. "I just don't understand how. It's not even that windy out and I could have sworn that sucker was firmly planted into the ground."

"Must have been an unexpected gust," Rick offered, desperately wanting to bypass the mundane, but bizarre interaction with a man, who as far as he knew, could barely tolerate the sight of him.

"We'll I won't keep you. You probably want to get back before the family starts bouncing off the walls." James laughed at his own joke as he made his way around the side of the house. "I'm gonna go work some magic with super glue."

"Alright then."

Once Rick was in the car, he breathed a sigh of relief and took in a brief moment of what felt like sanity. The drive took a little longer than he intended, but Rick eventually located the bar, the last place where everything made sense.

When he opened the old wooden door as he had done the evening before, he was greeted with the scent of stale beer and peanuts again.

Johnny Cash was still singing about prison blues.

The bar was still deserted with the only patrons being a woman—she looked like the same one from before—fiddling with the jukebox and a man slumped over a table.

This time, Dale Horvath was standing behind the bar as if anticipating Rick's arrival. "Hey there, Rick! Good to see you back again. What can I get you?"

"Well, an explanation would be nice."

"What about? Got something on your mind?"

Rick began pacing in front of the bar, gathering his bearings. "I was here yesterday afternoon. Do you remember that? Please tell me you remember that because feel like I'm losing my mind here."

"Yes, you came in and sat right there." He pointed to a wooden bar stool across from him. "We had some Moonshine."

Rick's eyes widened and he licked his suddenly dry lips. "That's right," he exclaimed, pointing a finger at the man. "That's exactly right."

Dale smiled. "Exactly right."

"And I was telling you about a woman. She was someone I used to date when we both lived here years ago. I told you the story."

Dale nodded knowingly. "The one that got away."

"Alright." Rick held up a hand. "Here's the thing. I don't remember anything after that. The last thing I remember is grabbing the second drink and I remember getting a really strange feeling. It was almost as if my limbs were stretching. I don't know how to explain it, but it was odd. One second I was here then the next I was waking up a whole state away."

Dale stroked his chin, carefully observing Rick. "That _is_ strange," he finally said in agreement. "Do you remember what you did this morning?"

"Noe, this is going to sound wild, but I do remember," he said. "The thing is, what happened this morning can't be real. Yesterday, it was 2018 and now today when I woke up I find out it's apparently 2010 and I'm married to the woman I told you about. We even have a baby on the way. Everything points to the year being 2010, except my memory of last night and the past twelve years!"

"Fascinating!" There was a glimmer of intrigue in Dale's eyes, but Rick saw no disbelief or shock in them.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Rick groaned, throwing his head back. "I must still be dreaming."

"I certainly hope not," Dale laughed. "Then, I'd be dreamwalking." He wore a contemplative expression. "On second thought, I don't think I'd be opposed to that."

"I just want to know what's going on an I was hoping you might know _something_ that could help me out here,"Rick continued. "Either I'm dreaming, in a coma somewhere or I time traveled and entered some other timeline, but nothing has made sense all day. I don't know what's happening."

"Tell me something Rick," Dale said, unbothered by Rick's distress. "What is it that you want in life?"

"What is it that I want...What? What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, dumbfounded at the man talking to him like a therapist would. "Did you this? Am I hallucinating? What did you put in that drink?"

"Nothing." Dale shrugged. "I just found it on the shelf and I drank it too. Now tell me about your marriage to this woman who got away."

"This is…" Rick held his head in disbelief and started pacing again. The bar was now empty, the jukebox woman and the passed out drunk man having disappeared. "What year is it?"

"Like you said," He snapped his fingers together as if trying to recall it. "2010."

"So, what? I time travelled?" It sounded even more absurd uttering it out loud. "Was it 2018 when I spoke to you yesterday?"

Dale shrugged again. "Depends on how you look at things. Compared to yesterday, how do you feel about your life now?"

"I don't know! I've barely lived it. Sure, I wish things had gone differently with Michonne. Four years ago, I showed up at her house and I fucked everything up, because I thought it was the right thing to do," he said through gritted teeth. "If we were meant to be together we would have. We would have found our way back to each other."

"And you didn't?"

"She's engaged," he shouted, getting exasperated. "At least, the Michonne from yesterday was engaged. Today's Michonne is eight years younger and married to me, who is also eight years younger. I guess we never broke up, then."

"And you're happier."

"I don't know that. This could be a doomed relationship for all I know. I've known that Michonne for all of six hours."

"Just because things didn't work out the first time, it doesn't mean that things can't flip in your favor."

Rick stopped pacing and slowly turned to face the man across the bar. "You said that yesterday," he said, recalling the man's cryptic words. "Right after I dropped that coin you gave me. Then I started feeling…" As if on autopilot, he reached into his pocket, finding the coin. He was certain he didn't put it there, considering the fact that he now wore a completely different set of clothes from yesterday.

"How do you feel about your life now?"

Rick chuckled humorlessly. "Honestly, it feels too good to be true, which is how I _know_ it's not real. It can't all be a bed of roses. This is a fantasy. None of it is real. In real life, things are bound to go south eventually. Either we end up resenting each other, in therapy, or divorced. Nobody stays happy in a relationship forever. That's why I don't bother with them."

"Or maybe Christmas is bringing out the Grinch in you."

Rick ignored the comment. "So, this isn't a dream?"

He shrugged. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know. What is this place?"

"I think, based on your description, it might be a possible reality and it's completely up to you if you want to go through with it. This is obviously your show."

"Why is this happening?"

"I think that's a question you should ask yourself. Like I said, this is all you." Dale poured himself a drink, taking a swig. "It always amazes me how little people see with their eyes. Once you open your heart instead of just your eyes, you will see more than the result." He opened his arms, looking around the room. "You'll see the reason."

"If this is some kind of test or a do-over, why didn't I end up back at that night?"

There was a twinkle of amusement in Dale's eye as a smile spread across his face. "Where's the fun in that? I don't think that's _sometime_ you really wanted to go."

Dale's odd phrasing didn't escape Rick's notice. "How is that even possible? It makes no sense."

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Dale sighed, tipping back his silver head and downing his drink.

"It's clear I'm not going to get any answers out of you that make any sense," Rick sighed, rubbing his temples. "But, I do have another question. What makes you think you have any right to mess with people's life like this? I had a life back in 2018. One I was in control of."

"Like I said, this is all you. I didn't take your life away."

"Bullshit," Rick snapped. He felt dizzy with anger and it almost felt as if the air around him was vibrating. He chucked the gold coin on the bar. It spun around on its edge in front of Dale who never took his eyes off Rick. "Stay away from me."

With that, he stalked away from the man and his abstruse explanations.

"Nut job thinks he's gonna screw with my head," he muttered as he exited the bar, searching for his car. "I'm not crazy." The words came out louder than he intended and he quickly surveyed his surroundings to make sure nobody was staring at the mentally unbalanced man declaring his sanity to an empty parking lot.

Strangely enough, there were some cars he didn't remember seeing in the small lot and he couldn't see the black sedan anywhere in sight.

He hit the button on his remote key only for and unfamiliar light green SUV to beep, signaling it's unlocked status. He stood in stupefied silence, looking between the keys, the vehicle, and the bar.

* * *

 **There you have it. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Christmas continues into March with a merry band of characters! Hope you enjoy this one!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

Michonne was outside when Rick returned to the B&B. He parked the light green SUV in the same spot she had parked their car earlier that day.

Rick squinted, trying to make out what was happening at the house. Michonne was holding someone's toddler and seemed to be in a conversation with someone outside of his line of sight. He noticed she had changed into an olive-green parka jacket and a bright red Christmas hat. On anyone else, the outfit would look strikingly similar to one you'd see on one of santa's helpers, but somehow she managed to make the colors more restrained.

He wondered if she would be as surprised as he was about the new car, but something told him she wouldn't be.

When he attempted to get answers as to why his car had transformed into another, his enigmatic old friend had disappeared.

A young woman stood behind the bar and she had no idea where Dale was. She informed him, in a rather dull tone, that she hadn't seen the man since the day before.

He must have taken the "stay away from me," to heart.

After careful consideration, he climbed into the unfamiliar car and used the drive back to the house to truly consider his strange predicament. All the sensations he experienced in this bizarre world was unlike any dream he ever had. He resigned to the idea that reality was dead and he was living in the aftermath.

If his black sedan transformed into a green SUV, he would go with it.

If he was married with a child on the way, he would go along with that reality as well.

If Michonne's family was on good terms with him, he would accept it.

Trying to make sense of the constant changes would drive him to madness. That's if he wasn't already there. Perhaps seeing his first love again after years of avoidance, triggered something in his psyche.

Michonne spotted him and even from across the yard, he could see her face light up. It reminded him of when they would see each other in the hallways at school. She smiled as if he was the center of the universe.

He could also see that her hair was different. Longer. Not unlike the way it was when he spoke to her at the diner the day before.

 _Did things go back to normal?_

She didn't look surprised to see him and he had yet to find an explanation for his new vehicle.

Rick started his walk toward her, wondering what surprises he would meet once he arrived at the steps.

"Hey babe," she called, hoisting the little curly haired boy higher on her hip. "We're all ready to go."

A child squealing in delight, shattered his line of thought before he could inquire about where exactly they were going.

"Daddy!" A little girl bounced out of the house coming to a brief halt at the top of the steps, before leaping out into the frigid air.

It took him a moment to comprehend that he was the 'daddy' in question and the airborne gil expected him to catch her.

He held out his arms and the excited little girl landed safely in them. "Grandpa said I get to choose!"

She beamed up at him from underneath her curly corkscrew bangs. When her dark eyes met his, there was a strange familiarity there; as if he'd seen those eyes before.

"Oh, did he?" He asked, offering the girl a smile instead of questioning her choice in name for him.

"We're gonna get one taller than you." She extended her arm as high as she could reach.

"Hopefully we get a good one," Michonne said. "Dad usually doesn't wait this late to get a tree, but...Elodie."

She said the name as if it were an explanation.

"Alright, we ready?" James boomed as he emerged from the house. "Let's go get my granddaughter the Christmas tree she deserves."

 _Granddaughter._

Rick glanced down at the wide eyed girl in his arms who shared many features with him. She was an alarmingly perfect blend of both him and Michonne. The boy on Michonne's hip also shared strikingly similar features with the little girl.

James looked more like the present day version of himself —based on what little of him Rick could see—than the one he met earlier that day.

If that was the case, it was very likely that he wasn't living in the year 2010 anymore. He reached into his pocket for the phone he found in his new green SUV on his drive back.

Unfortunately his iPhone lock screen only had the day and month. There was no year.

 **Sunday, December 23**

None of the passcodes he tried had worked.

He followed Michonne and the children in a confused daze to James' red four-door truck where Michonne and the children loaded into the back passenger seats and he rode shotgun with her father.

From what little conversation they had, he surmised that they were on their way to select a fresh evergreen fir tree for the family room.

James switched on the radio as they turned onto the main road and Brenda Lee's voice blasted through the truck.

 _Rockin' around the Christmas tree let the Christmas spirit ring  
Later we'll have some pumpkin pie and we'll do some caroling_

Elodie clapped happily and started singing along.

 _Like mother, like daughter,_ he thought with a smile.

Half an hour later, his surmise was confirmed when they pulled into _The Greene Family Farm._ He was more than familiar with the place considering the fact that Maggie's father and stepmother ran it.

A little high-pitched _Moo_ came from the back seat and Rick turned around, meeting the big brown eyes of the little boy in the booster seat.

"Moo!" the child repeated, with a gleeful shriek.

Michonne's father chuckled. "Why're you mooing son?"

"He thinks the horses are cows," Michonne laughed, pointing out the window to the young woman leading a horse into a barn.

"That's hilarious," Rick chuckled. "They are a bit like cows aren't they…?" He didn't know the child's name.

"Not moo RJ," Elodie interjected. "Horses say Neeeeiiiigh!" She did her best imitation of a horse's neigh.

The boy giggled and attempted to mimic her.

"He's gonna be doing this all day," Michonne said, looking up at Rick and smiling.

The farm was massive and had a wonderful family appeal. There were children running around, teenagers trying to pelt each other with snowballs and people loading last minute trees into truck beds and atop other vehicles.

"This place hasn't changed much," Rick commented as they began walking toward the rows of trees. Elodie grabbed his hand, using her little strength to attempt to tug him forward.

"She's been talking about this nonstop for the past week," he heard Michonne tell her father.

"Well would you look at this bunch," Hershel Greene, the owner of the farm, called as he approached them. "The DuBois-Grimes family has finally decided to show their faces around here."

"We would have come yesterday, but it was a long drive." Michonne hugged the man and Rick followed suit.

Elodie ran ahead to catch up with her grandfather.

"You okay?" Michonne asked, as they trailed behind. "You seem a little...far."

He offered her a reassuring smile, taking her hand in his. He missed being able to do that. "I'm okay. Just thinking about how lonely life would be without all the people I love."

She smiled. "That's the most depressingly sweet thing I've ever heard."

"Yeah, it is pretty dark," he chuckled, causing the toddler on her shoulder to turn his wide-eyed gaze on him.

"Remember the first time we stayed here together?" he asked, wondering if anything from before the break-up had changed.

"You had that summer job with Hershel, so of course I asked my parents for me to spend the weekend with Maggie."

He arched his brow. "That's an interesting way to pronounce Rick, considering how we spent that weekend."

Michonne threw her head back, letting out peals of laughter. There was something about the way she laughed that usually send him in a daze of admiration. Her laugh was in her eyes, on her skin, and in the air that surrounded her. They were bursting with warm, relaxed joy as the melodic chimes emanated from her.

"I can't believe you talked me into going skinny dipping in the creek and then almost got us caught."

Rick let out deep laughter of his own. "That's not how I remember it. You were the one laughing and moaning so loud and then we couldn't find your dress with all the buttons because the wind carried it."

"And whose fault was that genius?" she asked, lightly smacking his arm.

"It was partially my fault," he admitted with a smirk. "But you get to share half the blame because you should have known how light that material was."

She bit her lip, pretending to consider it. "Maybe a quarter of the blame."

"Could you ever imagine us not being together?" He asked, feeling even more conflicted than he'd like to admit about his life choices.

One decision twelve-year old decision had such a profound effect on the majority of his happiness and misery.

"You know, a part of me always used to be afraid that things would just end between us. And badly, at that. You left home before I did and I was always a little afraid that you'd experience all these new things and people and you'd want to sample the other fish in the sea. How many people like us make it?"

"That a line from your mom?"

"Who else? She had a very serious talk with me about you during senior year. There were a lot of sea metaphors," she laughed. "I'm just glad she didn't know about that scare we had a few months before you left. Who knows how badly that talk would have gone."

He stopped walking, turning to face her and little RJ—he had a good guess about what those letters stood for—and the amount of contentment he felt surprised him. "I'm glad we stood the test of time."

"Well there's still potentially a lot of time left," she teased, stepping in to embrace him. "I'm pretty confident we'll last through it all though because we've made it through so much and I can't imagine not being with you."

"Neither can I." _Actually I can_ , he thought.

"But if we do wind up hating each other and getting a nasty divorce a few more years down the line, at least we can say we had fun and enjoyed it all while it lasted."

"Always the optimist."

She stood on the tips of her toes and her mouth connected with his. He wrapped his arms around her and the son he didn't know as he deepened the kiss, reveling in the fiery hot passion between them. He was so enraptured by her that he barely felt the tiny hands of the toddler attempting to shove him away from his mother.

He was beginning to think he could get used to this new life.

"This is a family establishment," a familiar sarcastic female voice announced.

They slowly pulled away to find Maggie staring at them with an amused smirk.

"Hey Mags," Michonne greeted with a little wave. "I didn't know you were here today."

"Hey Maggie."

"Y'all are too cute." She playfully rolled her eyes. "I just stopped by to drop off a cake for Mama."

"We'll see you at the Christmas Eve dinner party tomorrow, right?"

Seeing them interact brought back Rick's conflicted feelings. The Maggie and Michonne he knew were always friendly, but after more than eleven years, their relationship fizzled to a mere acquaintanceship.

Maggie stayed behind and thrived in small town life, while Michonne excelled wherever life took her. Even though she'd never admit it, he knew Maggie felt forgotten in the wake of Michonne's disappearing act.

"Glenn and I wouldn't miss it. We'll bring the sweets."

He couldn't deny that this was definitely an improvement from real life. If only real life was a utopian fantasy.

* * *

 **…~OUACT~...**

When Elodie declared that she wanted the tallest tree that could fit in her grandparents' house, she meant business. Therefore, he had the arduous task of helping his father-in-law force the entirely too large tree into the house.

Once they managed that feat, he became Elodie's pliable decorating assistant.

The other adults were mingling elsewhere, so he took the opportunity to gain some backstory from the only person who might not think he was losing his mind. After all, seven-year olds had a limited concept of what subtle insanity looked like.

He pulled out his cell phone. "You know my password Elodie? I can't remember it for some reason."

The little girl looked between him and the phone before responding. "Grandma said people start forgetting things when they get really old."

Rick chuckled at her bluntness. "Did she?"

"Uh huh," she nodded her head vigorously. "It's 1...2...2...3."

"Thanks." _Now, to find out what year I'm in._

 **2018**

He figured as much. It was either that or the future.

Dale's words from the bar came back to him. This was apparently what he wanted, but did he really will himself into the future of an alternate reality?

"You okay, Daddy?"

He looked up to find Elodie staring almost suspiciously at him.

 _So much for that limited concept of subtle insanity,_ he thought with a sigh.

"Yeah."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push the issue further. "Daddy, I got the lights all tangled up. This is hard."

He shuffled over to her on his knees to help her untangle the lights just as Michonne entered the room holding little RJ's hand with one hand and a box in the other. They were both wearing those garish Christmas sweaters Michonne was so fond of. RJ's was green and matched his sister's while Michonne's was a blindingly bright red with sequins and frills at the wrists.

He was mildly surprised to see the little boy walking since he never left Michonne arms throughout their whole outing.

"Tree!" He squealed pointing at the tree. Though his pronunciation made it sound more like _Tee._

"Got our ornaments," Michonne said, dropping the box on the coffee table and joining them on the floor.

"Whoa," he gasped, peering into the box of homemade ornaments. "We made all these?"

"I know," Michonne laughed. "We've got way too much time on our hands. Do we even have a social life anymore?"

"Mommy, Daddy's old and he's forgetting," said Elodie in the most casual manner.

Michonne touched her index finger to the top of Rick's nose. "He's not _that_ old."

RJ reached his little hand into the box and plucked out an ornament, holding it up for all to see. "You like that one?" Michonne asked, tickling his cheek. "Daddy made that one."

"Daddy!" he repeated with a grin that filled Rick's heart with joy. He couldn't believe he was looking into the face of two people that he—well some version of him—and Michonne made.

At each utterance of the word his children called him, the world brightened even more.

He spent the next hour seated cozily in front of the warmth of the fireplace, sorting ornaments and decorating the tree with his new family. When the time came to put the star on top, Elodie cheerfully nominated her little brother who Rick learned was named after him.

As he held his namesake up in the air, he was struck with an overwhelming feeling of love for the three other people in the room with him. The emotion overpowered him, rushing through him like a river in flood.

For the first time in a long time, he pure unadulterated joy.

When they were younger, Michonne always described the Christmas season as bringing her an intense, indescribable happiness. He finally understood what she was describing.

"I don't think this will ever stop being my favorite time of the year," she said, as if reading his mind.

"Yeah," he said. "I can't imagine anything better."

The rest of the family eventually joined them, bringing whipped cream topped hot chocolate and singing praises for Elodie and the excellent job she did leading the tree decoration. She was very pleased. This led to a rousing discussion on Christmas decorating traditions.

"I personally find the Elf on the Shelf thing creepy," Michonne said, when Sasha brought up her old roommate's love for the cheaply made dolls. "What's the point?"

"What _is_ that anyway?"

"I don't see what's wrong with it," Sasha shrugged. "They're supposed to be keeping a creepy eye on people's kids to make sure they're not doing anything "naughty". It's pretty new, so you wouldn't know about it Mom, and I honestly think it's mostly a white suburban traditional anyway."

"Not my demographic. Perfect!" Michonne shot her a thumbs up and shifted her focus back to the origami Christmas star she was working on.

"Yeah, you guys are the total opposite of that," Sasha snickered. "Is she still refusing to move out of the city? Suburbia is calling you Chonnie. You can still pull off all the Bohemian shit there."

"Language!" Michonne and her mother shouted at the same time.

"You're such a Mom. It's so cute," she laughed. "But I like that you guys are so hands on with your kids. It takes a hell of a lot of patience to sit around and do all those hand-made ornaments. I'm gonna take notes from you guys for when I have my own kids."

"Take good notes please," Marie quipped.

"Don't worry Mom, I already got past the run-off with my boyfriend stage, so there's a lot less room for fuck ups."

Michonne hurled some balled-up wrapping paper at Sasha, who easily ducked away.

"Definitely taking notes on the spontaneous acts of violence."

RJ was the first to drift off to sleep in his mother's arms and soon after Elodie started yawning.

"So, it looks like it's bedtime."

"But I'm not tired Mommy," Elodie protested through another yawn.

Michonne playfully pinched her cheek. "We have a busy day tomorrow."

"You want me to take them up, so you can stay and socialize?" Marie asked, standing up and holding out her hands for her grandson.

"That's okay, I'm pretty tired myself and I'm sure Rick is too."

"Aww, so you're not gonna finish a bottle of wine with me?" Sasha asked, pouting as she held up a glass. "It's tradition! We gotta get amped for tomorrow's party."

"I don't know…"

"You only see your family a few times a year and this is your favorite holiday." She gestured to Michonne's distractingly hideous sweater. "What's Christmas Eve Eve without going down memory lane over some drinks?" She gasped, pressing the back of her hand against her lips. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

Rick's head whipped toward toward her, wondering what the answer of that question would be.

Michonne rolled her eyes, throwing some tinsel at her sister. "No."

"They've had a long day," James interjected, defending his eldest daughter. "These little grandbabies sure kept us on our toes. Well, mostly Elodie."

"Can't relate," Sasha snorted, taking a sip from her glass. "See y'all in the morning."

He followed Michonne up to the second floor and when they arrived at the door of what he assumed was the room the children would share, she paused before handing the boy off to him. "I'll be right in."

Elodie skipped over to the larger bed in the room, so he brought his son to the twin bed, laying him down gently. He stared down how much they looked alike. "Goodnight," he said softly, even though the child couldn't hear him.

"Goodnight Elodie," he said to his daughter as she climbed under her covers and stared expectantly at him.

"You're not going to read me my story?"

"Yeah. Of course. I wouldn't forget that..." he looked around the room in search of a bookshelf or any indication of what he should be reading. "Where do Marie and James keep the books?"

She pointed to the table across the room, where a small stack of books lay. "The blue one. We finished the other two yesterday."

He glanced at the covers of the books: _Mufaro's Beautiful Daughters_ by John Steptoe _, Finding the Green Stone_ by Alice Walker _,_ and a hardcover with no title.

They were most likely books from Michonne and Sasha's childhood. He remembered how fondly she would talk about growing up with a mother that instilled a love for literature in her and making sure she has access to stories that had characters looked like her and shared a common experience.

He picked up the thick hardcover book which had a plain blue cover, flipping to the title page to find the name: _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland._ He chuckled, whoever or whatever was in charge of twisting up his life, sure had a sense of humor.

"Daddy?"

"Yes Elodie?

"You'd tell me if you're really my Daddy, right? Or if you're here to replace my other one?"

The question took him off guard and he became fearful that there was some kind of public scandal or smear campaign against him and Michonne that traveled to his daughter's little ears. "What do you mean?"

"You're acting funny. Are your eyes gonna turn into buttons like Coraline's other mother? I went into Grandma's shoe closet this afternoon before you came home. I didn't want to, but Grandpa told me to get our boots."

"Who's Caroline?" he asked, trying to keep up with her.

Her eyes widened and he saw the fear there. His response was obviously a confirmation of something that had been bothering her.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm not like this Caroline person. I promise."

"Coraline," she corrected. "We watched it at home. If your eyes turn to buttons, I'm telling Mommy." She was thoughtful for a moment. "I think she's still Mommy. RJ too."

"As you should."

"Is someone insisting on another story?" Michonne asked, coming up behind Rick.

"Nah, she was just telling me about that movie we watched with the button-eyed mom."

"There's a book for it too. I found a copy at one of the stands yesterday." She produced said book from behind her back. "Did you guys finish the story already? Elodie loved that creepy little movie so much, I couldn't resist. It was too cute."

"No, we were still just talking."

Great!" Michonne grinned triumphantly, scooting in next to Elodie on the bed while he sat in the soft, spacious armchair beside the bed. "I thought I missed it."

"We waited for you, Mommy."

She gathered Elodie's corkscrew curls on top of her head, wrapping it in place, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Rick glanced down at the first page of the book.

 _Fairy Tales are more than true: not because_

 _they tell us that dragons exist, but because_

 _they tell us that dragons can be beaten._

—G.K. Chesterton

"Coraline discovered the door a little while after they moved into the house…"

* * *

"Where'd you go?" he asked, inquisitively once they left, the children's room.

Michonne grinned mischievously. "To hide your gift. I bought it last night at the Festival."

"You haven't changed a bit." The Michonne he always loved was still a joy to be around. While they did have a fiery, impetuous passion in their youth, there was always a deep calmness that he always felt when in her presence. It was the same now as it was then.

It made him realize that a significant part of him never really let her go.

"That's because people rarely change. They only mature." She curled her fingers together them popped them apart. "I think I read that somewhere, but just pretend I came up with it. It sounds really deep."

"It'll be our little secret."

"So, the kids are out and we finally have some time alone for adulting," she said, as they entered "their" bedroom. "I'm already going to be with Sasha all day tomorrow, so I'm not falling for her guilt trip." She spun around to face him, displaying a wide grin. "Remember that time we got into an argument at the farm when I decided I didn't want to go to California? God, this place is just full of memories. They just come rushing back."

He remembered that argument vividly. It occurred around five months before he ended things between them for good. "I remember you were pissed at me for trying to be reasonable."

"For assuming I hadn't thought things through," she corrected. "I think it was in the aftermath of all that, that I knew we were in it for the long haul."

"I remember the aftermath pretty well too." He remembered climbing through her window the night after and almost falling to his death. Although, his recollection of that ordeal was far more dramatic than hers.

"I'm sure you do." She lightly threw her arms, around his neck, staring up into his eyes with her deep dark orbs. There was desire there and the feeling was mutual. His lips parted and he wanted to move even closer to her, even though they were already chest to chest. He cupped her chin, holding in a breath as he took in the doll-like features of her dark skin.

Her eyes glossed over and her skin flushed as he hungrily pressed his mouth to hers. She leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as she ran her fingers through his dark curls.

It took an immense amount of self-control, but he managed to drag his mouth away from her neck. "Can I talk to you?" He asked before they could go any further.

She seemed perturbed by his question. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," he answered. "In fact, I haven't felt like this in a long time. I can't imagine being any happier."

He now knew that a big part of it was because he was trying too hard to let go of her.

Her head flinched back slightly and her brow furrowed. "Rick, what're you talking about?" She uncrossed her legs, nimbly landing on her feet in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"You're going to think I'm crazy, but I think I have to tell you this. I _feel_ like I should be saying this," he said, wanting to choose his words wisely as to not scare her or ruin her good mood.

Confusion crossed her perfect features, but she waited for him to gather his thoughts and continue.

 _It's only been a day, but I'm falling in love with you._

"I'm not who you think I am," he said with a sigh. "I'm not the person you probably know as your husband. I'm Rick Grimes, but I think I'm a different version of Rick Grimes. I'm a photojournalist without a permanent home. My life is nothing like this one. Up until yesterday, you and I hadn't spoken to each other in almost twelve years and then I woke up and we're married."

Michonne sighed, rubbing her temple. "This again."

"What again?"

"Remember that time when you hit your head and you were saying all these strange things. I was pregnant with Elodie. It was around this time of year I think. You went out, came back and was completely normal with no memory of ever having that episode. It was bizarre."

He snapped his fingers, surprised that she remembered that. "Yes! That was this morning. Not this morning for you, but this morning for me. I know it sounds crazy, but I went to a bar and this guy, Dale Horvath gave me some moonshine and I woke up, I was married to you, and it has been the best thing to happen to me in as long as I can remember."

She shook her head. "Rick…"

"I know it's crazy and maybe I'm insane, but it happened. I swear it." He stepped toward her taking her hands in his. "Can we get out of here? Maybe I should start explaining from the beginning, but let's just take a walk or something."

She placed a hand on his cheek, slowly running her fingers down his jawline. He could see the worry in her eyes. "You're worrying me." She took in a deep breath before continuing. "But I'm willing to listen to whatever you have to say. We always figure things out together, so let's do that."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Leave your thoughts in the reviews!**


	6. Chapter 6

**And Christmas continues in May...**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

"So, are you some kind of time traveler or is this like that Christmas movie with the robbery and the guy waking up with his high school sweetheart?" She asked, snapping her fingers as she tried to recall the name. "What's the name?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea what this is."

" _Family Man_!"

The night wasn't as cold as he anticipated, but the thick blanket of snow made it difficult to walk, so they had to settle on ambling through the snow hand in hand.

Rick explained his predicament while they circled the block, making a detour to a diner they used to frequent in their youth, before their return to B&B.

The rusty old bell above the door signaled their entrance and the waitress behind the long counter waved languidly in greeting. There was only one other patron.

Nat King Cole's baritone voice came from the overhead speaker, setting a comfortable mood.

 _Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,  
Jack Frost nipping at your nose,  
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir  
And folks dressed up like eskimos._

Michonne led him to a corner booth, sliding across the worn vinyl seat. He slid in across from her grabbing the faded coffee stained menu in front of him. He already knew what he wanted, but he look through it all the same.

She picked up where their conversation had left off outside. "So, when our relationship ended in your reality, how'd that go? What did you do after?"

"I just...tried to move on. I saw other people, I focused on school and I lived my life, but somehow it just wasn't...enough. There was always something missing." He didn't know what, but he felt the emptiness of the missing piece in his life.

Her dark eyes studied him closely. "You don't think it could be some sort of dissociative disorder, could it? Like, maybe _this_ has been the real reality all along? Maybe something traumatic happened and..."

"Do I think I'm crazy?" he clarified, half-jokingly. "The thought has crossed my mind actually." He sighed, rubbing his temple. "I can't believe you're really here."

"In the flesh." She held up both hands giving him a dramatic shrug. "Surprisingly, I don't think you're crazy," she offered. "How do we even define insanity anyway? Just because my reality is apparently different from yours, doesn't mean you're the mad one. Reality is a strange thing."

He stared at her in admiration. "Always so optimistic and understanding."

"Well, not always."

The waitress approached their table with a coffee pot in hand. She offered a rehearsed smile that didn't reach her dull eyes. "How are y'all doing tonight? Coffee?"

They both say yes and she poured the warm coffee into their cups, leaving droplets of the dark beverage on the white table top. People didn't frequent the diner for coffee, they came for the desserts.

"Two pieces of sweet potato pecan pie, please," he requested, remembering their routine.

"You know, you're not all that different from the Rick I know."

He flashed a grin. "Is that a good thing?"

"Depends. You know my weakness for sweet potato pecan pie."

"You think they've realized we're gone?"

"Nah." She shook head. "They'd have to be brave enough to venture upstairs and knock."

Now that he had her and she understood him, he had so many questions and he didn't know where to begin.

"What about the kids? Does RJ stand for Rick Jr?" He asked. "I never thought we'd be the people to name our kid a junior."

She put her chin on her hand, staring contemplatively at him as she slowly stirred the sugar into her coffee. "I always say the same thing. You and I—well the other you—sort of decided that on the spot. I had a difficult pregnancy with RJ. There was a lot going on around that time and we were taking forever to come up with a name. Then, looking at him, I just suggested yours. He's all you."

"Yeah. It's pretty surreal, seeing them."

"Naming was much easier with Elodie. I liked Elodie and you liked the name Judith, so we went Elodie Judith Grimes."

"A perfect blend."

"So...do you happen to know who your Michonne is engaged to?" She asked. "I'm kind of curious to know what kind of person I'd end up with in an alternate universe. Is it someone we knew from before?" Her eyes widened and she gazed playfully. "Is it Michael Anthony?"

"Uh no," he scratched at his stubble. "I only saw her twice and the one time I saw him it was at a distance. She didn't say much about him either, which is understandable because I _am_ her ex."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make this awkward or anything."

"You didn't," he assured her as the waitress delivered their pie. "I haven't eaten one of these in years." He had never been back to that particular diner after their breakup and his subsequent avoidance of all things Michonne.

"I'm gonna regret this later, but I can't resist." She dug her fork into the tip of the pie slice, bringing it to her mouth. "So good."

"Years of memories in a single bite."

"This is the one thing here that's just consistently good. It never falters."

"Not even in a different timeline," he joked. Being there with her sitting across from him and smiling back at him, had him reminiscing about the old days.

It almost felt like they were on a date.

He remembered the first time they came to the diner as a pair of young teens in "puppy love". He had asked her out on a movie and dessert date. He didn't remember the movie they saw, but he remembered sitting in the dark theater, their fingers brushing clumsily against each other's as they shared a large bucket of popcorn.

After the movie they ended up at the diner, eating the signature sweet potato pecan pie over milkshakes.

Those were simpler times.

"So I've told you all about me," he said, setting down his fork. "Tell me some more about yourself. I fucked up my life, how's yours?"

She shrugged, likely unsure of how to accurately describe herself. "There honestly isn't much to tell. It doesn't get much more interesting than what you saw today. Sure, we have our disagreements like everybody else, but we're pretty solid otherwise I think."

"Sasha said you're against moving. Do you and your Rick still live in that same area from 2010?"

"Yeah, but we got a bigger place before Elodie was born. It's nothing against living in a smaller community, I'm just comfortable where we are and I don't have a reason for changing things. It ain't broke so..."

"And how does the other me feel about this?"

She smirked, folding her hands delicately under her chin. "Ok, Mr. therapist. To answer your question, he hasn't explicitly said what he feels, but I know Rick. Part of him is all for the move, but he's downplaying it."

Her Rick was beginning to remind him of himself and his tendency to be less than straightforward.

"Maybe he doesn't want to come off as if he's pressuring you."

"Talking about something he's interested in doing isn't pressuring. Yeah, I love the city. It doesn't mean I'm dead set on living in the same place forever. We can meet halfway."

Rick smiled, thinking about the assumptions he made about what Michonne wanted and how it brought him here. "Did you ever tell him this? That you're not opposed to moving?"

She thought for a moment. "I guess it never really came up. And here I am just making assumptions of my own instead of asking him about it." A smile broke across her face and she let out a soft laugh. "This really is like a therapy session."

"For both of us."

"The only reason I'm even talking to you about this is because you're apparently my husband's doppelgänger." She pointed her fork at him in a mildly threatening manner. "We usually come to each other for these things, but you'll have to do for now."

"Well I told you all of my deep dark secrets," he said. "The only other person I told about what happened with Michonne is the old man at the bar."

"The part time elf?"

He nodded, chuckling. "Doesn't sound any less ridiculous, no matter how many times it's said."

"A part time elf is meddling in your life in between his three jobs. Not the sanest conclusion in the world. Unless you want a psychological evaluation, don't even think about bringing that up to Mama Dubois," she warned, half-jokingly.

"I might be confused, but I still have some sense left."

"Good. This was nice," she said, looking down at their empty plates. "Oddly therapeutic. Unfortunately my issue is a tiny and can be easily solved with one conversation while you have a whole world of hurt between you and your girl."

"I've already accepted that I've already lost her. The only thing left to do is apologize, let go, and move on. What I need is closure."

Michonne nodded, thinking over his words, before reaching across the table to place her hand over his. "You know what? If your Michonne is anything like me, I think she still loves you."

He doubted love meant much when there was a broken heart and a promise for marriage hanging between them.

And even then, reality was still a warped concept in his mind. Part of him still questioned what was real from what wasn't and there was still a nagging fear that Michonne was simply playing along with her husband's delusions in an attempt to ease him out of a fantasy world.

He was both comforted by and conflicted about her supportiveness.

* * *

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Michonne's childhood home had a whirlwind of activity. Family members maneuvered everywhere in preparation for the Dubois' spectacular Christmas Eve dinner party. He gave quick morning greetings as he passed, before settling on the back patio, away from all the action.

A sudden wave of regret washed over him, accompanied by burdensome guilt.

He arrived in this town days ago, with the sole purpose of appeasing his mother with the simplicity of his presence. Now, he was forced to revisit the ghosts of the past and reevaluate all the decisions that shaped his life until the present point in time.

He thought he liked his life and the small comforts in it, but did it measure up to the one he destroyed before it could come into fruition?

Was he truly happy being bound behind the mental and emotional walls, he carefully built over the years?

He breathed deeply, taking in the nature around him. The flowers in Marie's garden danced in the light wind, the petals moving back and forth as if confirming his unhappiness for him.

The door burst open behind him to reveal Michonne standing in the doorway. "Wanna make a store run with me, stranger? Everybody else is too busy. Even RJ. I could use the company."

Brick by brick, the walls were crumbling to the ground. "Sure."

They ended up on Market street, where the Festival of Lights was more festival and less lights due to the daylight. The sweet smells in the air and the excited chatter of the people around them evoked a more positive feeling than days prior when he walked the streets alone. Being there with Michonne was an entirely different experience.

He still found the celebrations and the joyous music sweetening up the crowds so they can part with their hard earned money excessive, but it didn't bother him as much this time.

It was as if the dark cloud that hung over the Christmas season in Rick's emory had been momentarily lifted, and he found himself falling into a surprisingly good mood. He enjoyed watching Michonne; the way she lived to enjoy the moment was a beautiful thing to see. He was saddened by the fact that this wasn't his life and the one he had actually built was imbued with unhappiness.

Michonne shook him from his reverie, holding up a sweater that rivaled the ugliness of all the others she had worn so far. Seeing her excitement, he couldn't help but smile.

He missed her. He barely knew her now, but she was the missing piece.

"I thought we were just going to pick up some orders from the bakery."

"It won't be ready for a while," she explained, doing a little twirl with her sweater pressed to her chest. "I thought I'd pick up a few things first."

"Did you ever get that rattle for Elodie?"

"We did," she said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I remember how strange you were being when I brought it up. Then you went for a ride and came back a different person."

He followed her as she led him into a quaint little shop that probably wouldn't catch his attention had he been roaming the streets alone.

"Nabila!" She called as they entered. Like everywhere else in the little town, Christmas music emanated overhead.

 _Everyone, everywhere_

 _feels the thrill in the air_

 _Christmas Eve, Christmas Eve_

 _Christmas Eve!_

"Michonne!" He recognized the woman as someone they went to school with.

 _All the streets snowy white_

 _as they sing "Silent Night"_

 _on this holy holiday eve!_

"Come back for a little trinket to commemorate another little one?"

Michonne laughed, shaking her head vehemently. "We're just looking this time. I just wanted to pop in and say hi."

"Well I certainly don't mind seeing company," she said. "It's just me that's in today. Jerry is with the kids and we're only open for the morning so I can wrap some things up."

"How are they by the way? I feel like it's been forever since I've seen them."

"They're growing so fast. I wish I could keep them that little forever."

"I say the same thing about Elodie and RJ. I love my babies."

A flash of silver in the display case caught his eye and he stepped closer to have a look as Michonne and Nabila continued their conversation. He smiled as his mind immediately went to his Michonne sitting alone with a laptop at the coffee shop.

 _I work in medical research._

The vague words replayed in his mind as if he was back in the diner with her sitting across from him. He could imagine her sitting in a laboratory, peering down the eyepiece of a microscope much larger than the little silver one, entwined with a letter M that sat in Nabila's display case.

He didn't know—or perhaps he didn't want to admit to himself —why he wanted that pendant.

"Can I get a look at this one?"

The woman shuffled over peering down at what caught his attention. "Last minute Christmas present?"

"Something like that." He wondered what would happen to that pendant if things were to eventually go back to normal. Would it be as if none of this ever happened?

Nabila packaged the gift in a small box while Michonne looked on with an unreadable expression. Her mind was likely attempting to make connections to decipher the peculiar time-travelling man.

When they returned to the B&B, they found themselves in the middle of a snowball fight. Michonne abandoned the baked goods in the back of the car and joined in, taking cover behind the family of glittering plastic reindeer.

A particularly large ball whizzed past Rick's head and he also had to run for cover. He crouched down beside Michonne, who was busy scooping up her weapons for war as Sasha hurled a blow at his shoulder followed by one from her father.

Michonne's mother appeared at the top of the steps with little RJ in her arms, laughing at her family's carefree display.

"I need my stuff from the bakery." Her tone was semi-urgent.

Rick held up his hand in truce as he bounded toward the car to retrieve the first set of his fake mother-in-laws' sweet treats. He received a heavy pelting of snow to his back as he ran and from the mischievous little giggles, he knew Elodie was involved.

"Sorry about that," he said breathlessly as he ran up the front steps with the packages. He caught a glimpse of the strangers that were already crammed, inside, preparing for the evening's party.

It brought back memories to the days when he and Michonne would slip away to her room while her family was distracted with the florists, the decorators and last minute preparations. It was one of the rare times he was allowed in her room with the door shut—the Dubois were not fully aware of his presence. Over the years, the grandiose nature of the Christmas Eve party diminished and it became a smaller and more intimate affair that didn't attempt to cram half the town in the Dubois property.

"It's fine," she said. "It's hard not to get caught up with the happiness of the season. RJ and I sit out the snowball fights though. Isn't that right my little pumpkin?"

"Boo!" He squealed happily, pressing his little hands against his cheeks.

"Wrong occasion, dear."

The entire family laughed, lifting his spirits even more. If only he had discovered sooner that at the heart of the enjoyment of season, was in loving, living, and laughing with the people you love the most. It's what fills a person with overwhelming joy.

* * *

Rick stood on the far side of the large dining room, watching as people who he hadn't seen interacting in years, laughed, danced and drank together. Soft jazz music filled the room, a welcome respite from the constant holiday music. He reached into his pocket, feeling for the hard, cold, little piece of golden metal there. He wanted to enjoy the party, but his mind was still full.

His parents were also present, their appearance exactly the same as in his version of reality.

"The kids are growing so fast!" His mother returned to his side with a newly filled glass. "Reminds me of how fast you grew up. One second you were a tiny thing in my arms and now you're almost an old man."

"It's like they grew overnight." _Literally,_ he thought.

"You're being even quieter than usual. Is everything alright?"

"Couldn't be better."

"This family sure knows how to throw a party," she mused, watching her son carefully. She was looking for a reaction, when she didn't get one, she continued on. "It's a bit of an overindulgence if you ask me, but I won't judge them for it," she said judgmentally, placing her empty glass on a nearby tray and picking up another. "I remember the first time we came to one of these."

It was shortly after he and Michonne had begun "officially" dating. They did the formal introduction thing with her parents and they assigned a label to their blossoming relationship. That earned his entire family an invite to the Dubois Christmas Eve dinner—which was more of a party than a simple dinner.

There were Dubois relatives from all across the country in attendance and they shared the same Yuletide spirit as their small town cousins.

"There's so many of them." His mother quickly clarified what she meant, assuming his silence was due to misunderstanding. "Dubois, I mean. I can't believe most of the family comes out here to celebrate every year. That's some real Christmas spirit."

"Yeah. It's a shame our extended family isn't as close as theirs," he said pointedly.

She smiled, nodding her head. "Something good to emulate, though."

"There you are," his father called out as he approached them. Elodie was hoisted happily in her grandfather's arms prattling on about something that he intently tried to listen to.

"There's my favorite little lady," his mother said. "She's the star of the night, you know."

"That she is." His father met his gaze. "Michonne was just looking for you, I just left her in the dining room."

He went into the large dining room, his eyes searching for her, finding her, and then locking with her own eyes.

She was breathtaking.

She was wearing a crimson dress that hugged her body perfectly. Her wine red lips curved into a smile as he approached her and she politely turned to excuse herself from the conversation she was in the middle of.

 _Another man's wife,_ he reminded himself, even though the other man was himself.

"Jos you remember my husband, don't you," Michonne said to the woman with the deep brown skin who was standing beside her. While there was something familiar about her, Rick couldn't quite place the face. He wondered if she was a member of Michonne's massive extended family.

"I do." She held out her hand. "It's been a long time."

"Ah, yes—"

"Jocelyn," Michonne interjected, giving him a subtle help. "Was just telling me about her work with children. She's a child psychologist now. A lot different from when we last saw her in college."

He shook the stranger's hand. "Good to see you again."

"I'm glad you invited me. It's always nice to catch up and by pure luck, I was in the area. I made the drive from about forty-five minutes from here. It's pretty close considering."

"And you haven't changed a bit."

"Neither have you," Jocelyn complimented. "I swear you've gotten better with age. Even your ass got more perfect."

"Oh please," Michonne rolled her eyes playfully.

"It's true," she laughed. "But I'll stop now, or your husband will think we still have a secret thing going on." She winked in his direction. "I'm joking."

He wrapped an arm around Michonne's waist, pulling her closer to his side. "I know."

"Good." She took a swig of champagne. "I'm gonna go mingle. Maybe I'll find my future husband here. This town sure gave you a good one."

"She's…"

"Blunt?" Michonne finished for him as they watched Michonne's old friend saunter away. "I guess you've never met her in your reality."

"I guess not," he said, thinking back on an encounter years after things ended with Michonne. "You look beautiful by the way."

"Thank you. Not as festive as I originally planned, but it works. Especially compared to last year." She placed her hand over his hand that was around her waist and started leading him out of the dining room. "How are you enjoying the party so far? I'm assuming you're still..."

"Living in a Christmas movie? Yeah."

"If this was a movie, you probably wouldn't have told me and I would be oblivious to the obvious signs that something is off about you."

He chuckled. His doubts returned and he was somehow unsure of if she was just playing along with his improbable fantasy. He let her lead him into the B&B office and watched as she carefully shut the door behind them.

"I was thinking we could talk some more. Nobody will miss us for a while."

She walked further into the room before turning and locking eyes with him. Without further thought, he darted over to her, cupping her face in his hands before his mouth crashed over hers.

Her hands reached up and tugged at the at his hair, while he groaned into her mouth. He started walking her backwards, his hands dropped to her hips and he lifted her up onto the edge of the mahogany desk. He gathered the material of her breathtaking red dress, bunching them over her thighs to make way for him to step closer.

Their tongues tangle together and she gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer. She loosened his tie and his hands ghosted across her thighs as his lips moved down her neck and across the collarbone. The soft noises she made and the indecipherable whispers spurred him on. It almost sounded like the words, " _Come back._ "

In his mind, those words had a million different meanings.

He didn't dwell too much on them as his mouth continued to press silent words of love against her skin as he held her in his arms. He wished he never had to let go of her again.

* * *

 **Sorry for the delay. There you have it. Let me know what you think.**


	7. Chapter 7

**It's been a long time, but it's Christmastime again. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

Over the past decade, Christmas day for Rick Grimes was usually uneventful. He treated it like any other day off at home, diligently avoided the cheery outside world, and basked in his self-imposed solitude.

On this particular Christmas morning Rick lay in bed with his eyes closed, listening to the faint music that filled the house. When he opened his eyes, he found Michonne still fast asleep beside him, lips partially parted and her hand resting on her stomach. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He let out a relieved sigh, knowing he wasn't another time period.

The bedroom door creaked open and there was a soft pitter-patter of tiny feet entering the room.

"Hi other Daddy!" Elodie attempted to whisper, but she might as well have spoken in her regular voice. She stared surreptitiously at him before glancing toward her sleeping mother.

As if sensing their eyes on her, Michonne stirred beside him, rubbing her eyes as she started sitting up. "Morning."

"Morning Mommy," Elodie yelled before he could respond.

"Morning baby." She held her arms open and the little girl bounced leaped into her mother's arms.

Michonne looked over at him in a scrutinous manner, as she hugged her daughter. Elodie relaxed into her arms, almost seeming to melt into her as if they were one organism. Her little face was filled with contentment.

"It's still me," he informed her, knowing she was wondering if he was the husband she knew or not.

She nodded discreetly, placing a kiss on Elodie's forehead. "Merry Christmas El!"

"Merry Christmas Mommy." She looked to her father, who she clearly still had her suspicions about. "Happy Christmas Daddy."

"Thanks Elodie. Happy Christmas to you too," he chuckled at the child's quirkiness.

"Grandma's making breakfast," she announced, her eyes trained on her father as she played with her mother's manicured fingers. "I get to help. RJ too. Then we get to open all our presents."

"Sounds exciting! We'll be right down to join the fun." Michonne kissed Elodie's forehead, giving an amused Rick a playful wink. "Grandma's probably waiting for her little helper."

"She said not to wake you up because," she scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember her grandmother's words. "You're really tired and sleep dead. I just wanted to see if air was coming from your nose."

Rick chuckled at the adorable misunderstanding. "Well we've got lots of air." He tickled her feet eliting peals of laughter from the little girl. She hopped off the bed, shouted a temporary goodbye and ran off to find her grandmother.

After Elodie left, Michonne turned to him with a knowing smile. "It's gonna be a whirlwind." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before getting out of bed.

With Michonne dressed in a red sweater with a blinking Christmas tree on the front and him in a plain red sweater and jeans, they made their way downstairs to join the rest of the family for Christmas brunch.

They found the majority of the family in the main living room where the furniture had been cleared out to make space for a long mahogany table. The tree stood beautifully behind it with it's bright lights, gold garlands, and homemade decorations. Presents were overflowing beneath the tree and Mariah Carey was belting out her famous tune.

 _And everyone is singing_

 _I hear those sleigh bells ringing_

 _Santa won't you bring me_

 _The one I really need_

 _Won't you please bring my baby to me quickly_

RJ ran toward them with his arms wide open and he lifted his son into his arms while Michonne placed a kiss on his cheek.

They greeted everyone as they went to fill their plates with the food laid out on the mahogany table.

"Can we open these now?" Sasha asked, looking around the room when the plates were mostly empty. "The kids are getting impatient."

"The kids or you?" Michonne asked playfully, throwing a balled up piece of paper at her sister, who smoothly avoided it.

Sasha laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "Everyone has their inner child and I think I picked some good ones this year, so I need you guys to open these already." She reached for a perfectly wrapped box, handing it to Marie before reaching for another.

Everyone gave out their presents. The other version of him, who thankfully had already purchased and wrapped all his gifts, was quite the gift giver. He gave Michonne a delicate braided gold necklace that matched her wedding band.

"Thank you. It's beautiful," she murmured, giving him a soft, chaste kiss on the cheek. They both knew he wasn't actually the one who gifted it to her, but it was nice all the same.

She had gotten him a new watch and the children received the toys they wanted.

His was filled with that familiar warmth he couldn't explain. It permeated every part of his body and consumed him.

* * *

After the exchanging of gifts, the family began their preparations for the rest of the Christmas Day activities. The first thing on the agenda was ice skating followed by carolling later in the evening.

An hour later, they bundled up and loaded their things into their respective cars.

"Is it still you?" Michonne asked discreetly, reaching across to touch his cheek as he drove them to the ice skating rink. The children sat in the back seat, humming along to the song on the radio.

"Yep," he confirmed with an apologetic smile. "What would you have been doing now? If it was...you know."

"In the past, I usually just stayed home and had a regular day. This year, I would have spent it with my parents and probably popped over to Maggie's for dinner. Nothing like this though. Like I said, it's been a while since I've been back."

She laughed. "My family takes this holiday to the extreme. I hope your voice is warmed up for carolling tonight."

"Are you kidding? I'm going to kill _Carol of the Bells_ tonight," he said sarcastically.

"I am definitely recording that. It's going to be priceless and I need evidence."

He chuckled. "That's one thing I wouldn't mind leaving behind actually." He immediately regretted saying it. He was dreading having another one of those episodes. It was selfish, but he wasn't ready to let go of this reality.

They stepped out into the wintry sun, which illuminated the outdoor skating rink. The air was delicate and cold, but there was that unique wintertime warmth surrounding them that can only be obtained when you're surrounded by love.

They helped Elodie into her skates as the rest of the family started to arrive. Rick carried RJ while Michonne and Elodie went on to the ice and began skating to and fro their laughter in the air like bells.

"Mommy!" RJ said, pointing to his mother and sister as they waved. Rick sat him down on the ledge and reached for his phone to take a snap of his fake wife and daughter.

 _The other me would appreciate this,_ he told himself. It was a sight that needed to be immortalized. A picture of happiness personified.

Michonne met his eyes from across the rink as if she could sense him looking. She waved, pointing them out to Elodie who did the same.

Family.

"Eggnog?" A familiar voice asked behind him. A feeling of dread filled his body and it felt like a cold bucket of water had been dumped on him.

"Why are you here?" he demanded through gritted teeth, turning to face the meddling old man. He half expected to find the impish man dressed as an elf, waiting to meddle with his current state of happiness.

"Bringing the eggnog and hot chocolate to the people," Dale Horvath answered, pointing to the concession booth. He wore a red bubble jacket with the ice rink company logo on the front and a Christmas hat on his head. "Merry Christmas, Rick."

"I thought I told you to stay away from me."

"Way!" RJ mimicked cheerily, throwing his hands up. The childlike wonder in his brown eyes was almost enough to make Rick forget his annoyance with the old man.

"Well, I work here and it's pretty hard to avoid anyone in this small town," Dale explained. "Plus I can't really tell if it's you from the back. It's not like I can see things before they happen." He offered Rick a smile. "I take it you're enjoying life. Cute kid."

"Why the fuck did you send me to this time? You here to zap me off to somewhere else? Mess with my head some more?" He was starting to raise his voice. "Is this some kind of punishment for something? What do you want?"

Dale held up his hands. "Like I said, this is all you. I don't want anything and I'm not here to take anything away. Only you can decide what you want to do with your life. I'm just here to sell beverages. Would you like eggnog or hot chocolate?"

"Neither," Rick growled, picking up his son and walking away from the man without so much as a backward glance. His body was buzzing with anger, but he wasn't sure who or what he was angry at.

He met up with his in-laws who were both clutching cups of hot chocolate as they looked on at the skaters.

"You want us to watch RJ so you can get out there with Michonne and Elodie?" Marie asked. "What do you say RJ? You want to hang out with me and your Grandpa?"

The boy reached for his grandmother's open arms and she placed him snugly between them.

"That's right baby. We're too cool for ice skating. Rollerblading is where it's at." She swatted Rick away. "Get out there. Let us spend some quality time with our boy."

He made his way onto the rink, skating toward Michonne and Elodie. "Hi Daddy!" she waved, holding out her other hand for him to take.

"Having fun?" Michonne asked.

"I am," he admitted. "This beats all those years I spent alone. The other—" He cut himself off, looking down at his daughter who was eyeing him carefully. "My doppelgänger," he amended, "has been living the life."

"I'm a little biased, but yes, it's been a pretty good life so far. Of course there's the occasional ups and downs, but I wouldn't change a thing."

"Therein lies the rub," he sighed. "I ran into my elf friend."

Her eyes darted around and she lowered her voice. "What does that mean? Are you…?" They both glanced down at Elodie who had her big brown eyes trained worriedly on them. Her parents were acting strange and her active imagination was probably overflowing with images of button-eyed family members.

"Later," said Rick. Michonne nodded in agreement.

* * *

 **~OUACT~**

"For someone who hates Christmas Carols you didn't do so bad," Michonne said as they walked down the quiet street to the B&B. Carolling had become a family tradition of sorts for some reason. It was also apparently good for business.

"I keep surprising myself." The rest of the family were almost out of sight as the lingered behind.

Michoone tilted her head back, meeting his gaze. "Have you given much thought to what happens next?"

"I don't know. I like this life and I almost don't want things to go back to the way they were" he said. "But at the same time, I don't feel like I earned this life."

"You want to make things right." It wasn't a question. "No shortcuts."

"Exactly."

She continued with her analysis. "But that's impossible because the damage has already been done. She's engaged and presumably happy with her new guy, so the likelihood of fixing things seems way too slim."

"How are you always right?"

She shrugged, a smile playing on her full lips. "It's a gift."

"A damn good one."

Her expression grew pensive and her eyes focused on the ground as they walked. "You're enjoying this life, but do you ever think that maybe you just came at a high point. It's Christmas and we're away from our regular boring lives. Maybe you're caught up in the excitement. Has that ever crossed that brilliantly deep mind of yours?" She glanced up at him from under her long lashes.

"You think I'll hate the mundane suburban part of this life."

She bit her lip, turning to face him and walking backwards in front of him. "Don't you?"

He stared into her eyes, which were filled with safety and warmth. Her beauty in the moonlight reminded him of an ethereal being. All the beauty in the universe couldn't compete with the bright orbs of her eyes, the soft dark silk of her skin, and the smooth alluring honey-like sound of her voice.

"...think that you'll hate the mundane suburban part of this life," she clarified, when he didn't answer.

He thought of the way her skin felt against his the night before as their lips moved slowly together. "Nothing that involves you could ever be mundane or boring."

She stopped walking and he did too. "Smooth."

He took a step towards her, taking both of her hands in his. "I was afraid; afraid of admitting I was wrong and afraid of going after what I really wanted. Now, I have this life which is way too good to be true, but nothing has ever felt so real. For once, I love my life. I feel content. I want to keep his life."

She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "What makes you think it isn't yours? I mean, for sure. Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could be real."

"Because...I remember."

She placed a hand against his cheek, keeping his other hand in hers. "Do you?"

Memories flooded through his mind. He wasn't sure if they were real or if they were images his mind conjured up based on Michonne's stories of the past. There was their wedding, Michonne's graduation, Elodie's birth, Elodie's first Christmas, RJ's birth and little moments in between. As he relived those moments he came to a realization.

He was absolutely, without uncertainty, falling in love with her.

"I love you."

She smiled, nodding her head and averting her gaze. She lightly squeezed his hand. "I love you no matter who you are. I always will."

Maybe he _was_ crazy. A psychological evaluation didn't seem like such a bad idea anymore. He didn't want to give any of it up.

Michonne blew out a breath, a white plume appearing in front of her lips. "It's freezing out here, let's get inside and relieve the grandparents from the two little rascals."

They went through their nightly routine. RJ was the first to drift off and he read the final chapter of one of Elodie's books.

" _... with many a strange tale, perhaps even with a dream of Wonderland of long ago…"_

The little girl's eyes were shut and his wife had slipped away at some point during the story. He placed a kiss on Elodie's forehead, turned off the lamp, and made his way down the wide hallway to find Michonne.

She was standing in front of their bed, seemingly lost in thought when he entered. She didn't even react when he shut the door behind him. "Hey," he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just sorting a few things out. Have to get these cleaned," she said, reaching for their clothes from the Christmas Eve party. "You always look so amazing in a suit." She picked up his jacket, slipping her hands through the arm holes as she put it on. She hugged the fabric to her body.

"You wear it even better," he complimented, strolling slowly toward her.

She batted her dark brown eyes at him, before slipping the jacket back off. "Maybe I'll wear a suit next time and we'll see who wears one better."

He grinned as he watched her stand up from the bed, giving the jacket a firm shake and hanging it over her arm. A flash of gold shot through the air and it was as if time was moving in slow motion.

The coin; the coin which he had forgotten was still in the jacket pocket from the night before. The coin the part time elf gave him which seemed to have played a large role in changing his entire life.

The coin finally landed on the linoleum, spinning rapidly on its edge before falling face up. He was filled with a familiar odd tingling feeling. The air seemed to vibrate and his bones felt like rubber being stretched.

"You okay?" asked Michonne. Her voice sounded far away. It was as if he was under water.

He felt her warm fingers touching his face and he tried to speak, but time seemed to be moving and not moving all at once. He tried to yell, tried to make any sound at all, but the space between them was growing to rapidly. Not in a physical sense, but in a way he couldn't quite understand.

The sensations left as quickly as they came. "Michonne," he finally managed to gasp.

"Rick." She felt his forehead as she fretted over him. "You look pale. Should we go—"

"No, no." He stopped her. "I feel fine. I just had a bit of an out of body experience. Like I was drifting away."

She bit her lip, looking into his eyes. Her voice was barely audible when she finally spoke. "Is it still you?"

"Still me," he smiled tightly. Was he going back to his old life? He fought it with every fiber of his being, but he knew he couldn't run from the inevitable. He had to fix things the right way.

"Okay," she replied breathlessly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He had a guess of what was about to happen next. "Just a weird feeling. Like goosebumps."

"Maybe we should get some rest."

He nodded, making a silent promise to himself. He was going to enjoy the final moments of this Christmas Day.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think! Hopefully I can get another chapter out soon. There are even more surprises. Enjoy the rest of the holidays!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. I'm glad you're still reading even though these chapters are super late. Here's another one for you. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Rick woke up in an unfamiliar room for the third time in four days. He glanced at the cream walls, the wide windows with their billowing drapes. There was a cream colored couch inlaid with blue silk across the room. A book laid open and face down on it. Behind the couch was a bookcase filled with books and a dresser which held carefully arranged photographs.

"Fucking Dale," he growled, bringing his hands to his face. He was surprised when his usually dexterous hands moved slower than usual and was even more surprised to see the light brown liver spots and deep wrinkles there. "What the fuck!"

He tried to get out of bed, finding his movements much slower than usual. His knees buckled and he almost fell over when he finally saw the reflection staring back at him in the mirror across the room.

He was a shriveled, shaky creature. The wrinkles on his face seemed to outline his long life. It was like a shriveled apple, forgotten in a cupboard. His hair was thinner and almost completely white, but thankfully he had not gone bald. He kept some of those curls that Michonne loved so much.

"Where am I?" The real question was _when_ was he?

Moving closer to the nearby window, he saw a vast field of grass, lightly topped with a sprinkling of snow. He noticed that his somewhat diminished eyesight. There were cars parked outside the house and another was approaching the house.

His heart was hammering and he placed a trembling hand over his chest. He wasn't sure how much the heart in his current body could handle.

The bedroom door opened behind him and he slowly turned to find who was entering and hoping with all hope that it was Michonne.

"Oh good," a woman with graying hair and a very familiar face said. "You're awake Dad. Everyone is up already and RJ is a day late, but he's here. It was a long night."

"Who…"

Her neutral expression turned to one of worry. "Are you feeling okay, Dad? I know yesterday was pretty hectic."

His mouth felt dry and he tried to say the name at the forefront of his mind. "Elodie?"

"Yes, Dad." Her brow furrowed. "Do you know where you are? Are you feeling disoriented? Do you need to sit down." She crossed the room, fretting over him.

"I'm fine," he lied. "Just a little confused. Where are we?"

"Our house. Today is Maya and André's birthday. The whole family is here. RJ, Andre, and Colette. All the grandkids and great-grandkids. The holiday's are nothing without family and we Grimes always go all out."

He nodded.

Eloise reached for a thick pair of glasses that was lying on the dresser, handing them to him. Beside the glasses was a familiar gold coin. "Your eyes." She lightly patted his shoulder, giving him a warm smile. "I laid out your clothes for you. I'm glad to see you're feeling better. I'll be in the kitchen, okay?"

"Okay."

After she left, he slowly picked up the coin, observing it between his bony fingers. "This is the cause of all my troubles and all my joys."

Panic started to set in as he started to dress. Where would he be when he woke up tomorrow? Taking his last breath? And where the hell was Michonne? It suddenly dawned on him that Elodie never mentioned her when she was naming off all the family members that were present.

He left the bedroom, shoving the coin into his pocket. He walked down the spacious hallway in the unfamiliar house as he followed the chattering voices. His gait was slow, but steady.

"Hey Dad!" a deep voice boomed. He looked up to find a man in his fifties or so, whose face was a mixture of his and Michonne's.

"RJ?"

"I know it's been a while since I've been around, but don't act like you already forgot about me." He walked over, giving Rick a gentle hug, before turning to address some others in the room. "Come say hello to your granddad, Jessica."

A young woman in her twenties followed by a woman around RJ's age approached him and gave him hugs. The older woman, he learned, was RJ's wife. She reminded him of his own wife with her doe eyes and dreaded hair.

"I hear it's Maya's and Andre's birthday," he commented, attempting to act natural.

"Yeah, they're somewhere around, probably in the kitchen with Eloise."

He wanted to ask about his wife, but he couldn't bring himself to. He wanted someone to say it first.

Rick shuffled toward the kitchen, finding his family engaging in shared laughter. Eloise was the first to spot him, as she looked up from the cookie dough she was spreading on a baking sheet. He looked around the room at the unfamiliar faces. None of them were Michonne.

His heart pounded faster.

"Hi grandad!" A woman ran over and gave him a light peck on his cheek.

"You must be…"

"Maya, grandad. Remember?" she asked. She pointed to a man rocking a baby back and forth. "My husband Jacob and baby Leila. I know you haven't gotten to meet her yet."

The man walked over, holding the young baby for Rick to see. He adjusted his thick-lensed glasses so he could get a better look at the baby.

"Your great-granddaughter," she said proudly.

"My great-granddaughter," he repeated, tears welling in his eyes. "She's perfect."

"And...and.." he pointed a withered finger to the room's other occupant. "Andre?"

"Uh no, that's Carl." Maya corrected him. "Uncle Andre and the other's aren't back yet. They went to see Nana. It's been a while since they've been back so they really wanted to visit her on their own."

"He wanted to see his Mama on his birthday," Eloise added, walking over to her father. "Have a seat, Daddy."

His ears perked up at Maya's words. "Michonne?"

"I'll take you to see her later," Eloise promised, exchanging en enigmatic glance with Maya. "We'll all go. We'll take the celebration to her."

Rick took solace in Elodie's words and after breakfast, he sat in a comfortable corner of the living room watching his family move around him. He barely knew these people, but they moved around the room with ease and comfort. They were a close and happy bunch.

He learned quite a bit about them from the two hours he spent in their presence. He and Michonne had four children together: Elodie, Rick Jr., Colette, and Andre. All of his children had children of their own. Elodie was Maya and Jeremy's mother, RJ was Jessica's father, Colette had Carl and Andre had a son he had yet to meet. He also had great-grandchildren.

He was guessing his age was somewhere in the late eighties or early nineties.

His ears perked up when he picked up Michonne's name at the end of a conversation.

"...and nobody knits a Christmas sweater better than her. That lady used to go gaga over this holiday. You've never experienced the Christmas season until you spend it with Grandma. Somebody turn on the Carols! For Grandma!"

The music turned on.

 _Last Christmas, I gave you my heart_

 _But the very next day you gave it away_

 _This year, to save me from tears_

 _I'll give it to someone special_

Rick smiled.

"Uh I hate that song," RJ groaned. "Why Maya?"

"I love that song!"

"It's more romance that Christmasy"

Maya burst out laughing. "What's a holiday without a little romance?"

He closed his eyes, drowning out their playful banter. He must have fallen asleep because when he reopened his eyes, there was only one other person in the room.

Elodie sat in a rocking chair, rocking back and forth as she stared into the fireplace. In the low light, he could see the glint of tears in her eyes.

"Is it time yet?" he asked, breaking her out of whatever trance she was in. He saw a lot of Michonne in her. More than when she was younger.

She wiped away the tears leaking from her eyes. "Dad. You're awake."

"Where's Michonne."

She sighed, shaking her head. "You don't remember?"

His breath hitched. "Remember what? Where is she?"

"She's at the hospital, remember?" Elodie asked, brushing back her thick, curly, dark hair that now held wisps of gray. "We brought her in last night after she took a fall."

Rick let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Elodie assured him. "Mama's strong. As long as she has her family, she's fine. The others already drove over. I was just waiting for you to wake up. Nothing's broken or sprained and they're discharging her later." She let out a deep sigh. "Sorry if I've been acting weird, I just didn't want to upset you. I know how you get when it comes to Mom."

"She means the world to me," he admitted, honestly. "Everything I did was for her. I've never loved anyone like I loved her and I'm so happy that we were able to build such a beautiful family together."

Elodie grinned at her father. "When did you get so mushy, Dad?"

"Your mother rubbed off on me." He leaned forward in his chair, catching his daughter's eye. "If she's okay, why are you crying?"

She bit her lip, eyeing him carefully. "You woke up this morning and it was as if you were another person. You were disoriented and confused and so unlike your usual sharp self and I just started to worry, you know? I'm the worrywart of the family."

"That's true," he chuckled. "I remember one Christmas when we were at your grandparents place, the B&B, you were convinced that I was replaced by a doppelgänger from another dimension. It was an idea you go from that book, _Coraline_."

"Really?"

"You always had an overactive imagination, but you were very perceptive too. I see you're still just as perceptive."

"Good to know." Elodie stood up. "Come on. Let's get our coats on and go see your wife."

* * *

 **~OUACT~**

"Here we are," Elodie announced, opening the dull brown door to reveal a room full of people inside.

"Look who's here," Maya said, cheerily looking toward the person in the bed who was obscured from his view. Rick moved as fast as his aged body could allow, to get a glimpse of the love of his life. Even if it was a different version of her.

The room looked like an upscale hotel suite. It was overflowing with flowers, beautiful paintings, and soft jazz music.

"Michonne?" The sea of bodies parted, revealing the silver-haired woman sitting up in the wide hospital bed. Elodie was right. She appeared very brisk and in good spirits. His Michonne was still his Michonne, just significantly older. Old age seemed to fit her a lot better than it did him. The benefits of her rich dark skin.

"My love." Her voice was somehow wispy and rich at the same time.

Rick moved closer toward her, a smile breaking across his face. "It's you."

"It's me," she smiled back. "You come to bust me out of here? I don't know why I'm still here. I told them I was fine, but no, they decide to stick me in this bed in this cold room to look at these ugly walls. It's okay though, I have all my family here now. At least I got to celebrate Christmas yesterday."

"Why don't you have a seat, Dad," A man said, standing up from the chair beside Michonne's bed. He assumed this was Andre. Of all their children, he resembled his mother the most. He was her caramel skinned clone.

He took the seat and drew Michonne's hands into his. "I missed you."

"I missed you more," she sighed, her deep brown eyes never leaving his. It was as if she was searching for something. "But you always come back to me."

"Always."

"You guys are too cute," RJ's wife said. "I hope we're like that when we get to be their age. A love story for the ages."

"Tell us again about when you fell in love." Maya moved across the room to sit at the edge of her grandmother's bed.

A radiant smile spread across Michonne's face and in that moment, it was as if he was looking at seventeen year old Michonne again. In his eyes, she dazzled with an indescribable light. "He was always infatuated with me, but we fell in love when I was seventeen."

Rick never let go of her hands as she recounted how they fell in love before they even knew what love was. She talked about the ups and downs of him moving away, the struggles of their young marriage and building a love that spanned decades.

He closed his eyes and listened to his voice, her wittiness and her soft laughter. He could picture them as teens again, sitting on the roof of the Rhee farm, bathing in the creek in the summer. Their love was timeless.

"Thank you for coming to your senses and not giving me up," she said, looking over at him. "Your grandfather almost broke my heart you know." There was a strange look in her eyes. "He was a year ahead of me in school and when it was time to go off to college, he wanted to break things off." She lightly squeezed his hand. "It was a good thing he didn't because we would have probably led different lives, met other people, and maybe we wouldn't have all of you."

"Glad you didn't screw things up, Dad," RJ said patting his shoulder.

"I think we would have all of them," Rick disagreed. "Even if it was twelve years too late, we would have found our way back to each other. You know why?"

"Why?" Michonne asked in a wispy voice.

"Because you're my soulmate. What we have is magical."

"Damn, Dad is real smooth," RJ chuckled.

"He's setting a high bar," Colette agreed with a laugh.

"Okay Grimes family," a short gray-haired nurse with a raspy voice said entering the crowded hospital suite. "I come bearing good news. Mrs. Grimes here will be discharged soon."

"Finally!" Michonne clapped her hands together. "We can take this party home. I really didn't want to have cake in a hospital bed."

"How soon," asked Elodie.

"Within an hour or so at least. Doctor just needs to sign off."

Elodie nodded, her worried expression dissipating. "Alright, why don't the rest of you head home and I will drive Mom and Dad. We'll have a proper party after all." She glanced back at her parents. "Let's give them a moment."

As they left, someone switched the station on the old vintage radio from the 2010s and Eartha Kitt's voice started crooning.

 _Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree for me_

 _Been an awful good girl_

 _Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight_

Once their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were gone, she scooted over making space on the bed. "There's room for two."

"Am I allowed?"

She waved him off. "We're old. We're allowed to break rules."

He crawled into bed beside her, holding her hand above the covers. "A love that spanned the decades, huh? My beautiful soulmate."

"Is it you again?" she asked, after a long silence.

She didn't have to explain what she meant. "Yeah. You shook my jacket, dropped the coin, I went to sleep, and I ended up here."

"I kept waiting for you to show up again. I didn't know when, but I had a feeling you would," she said. "So, I guess you haven't gotten your Michonne yet."

"Not yet."

She turned her head to look at him. "Do me a favor. When you go back after this time, go get her. I have a feeling she's waiting for you to take a step toward making things right."

"She's engaged."

She shrugged. "Doesn't mean you can't give her a really heartfelt apology. Just be honest and tell her why you did what you did. You never know what you might find out."

"So you really believed me, huh? About the whole time or dimension travel thing."

"It doesn't matter what I believe, remember? If you say it happened, I'm taking your word for it. You time traveled within a parallel universe and that's that."

He shoved his withered hand into his pocket, retrieving the coin. "This is it."

"That's what he gave you?"

"Yeah."

The song switched and Johnny Cash started singing about prison blues, in stark contrast to the crony Christmas song about expensive Christmas gifts.

"So, it's probably your way back," she whispered as if they weren't in a room without anybody to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I think so," he said, thoughtfully. "If I don't fight it and let it happen, I think it can be. Maybe I came here to learn something."

"You've visited the past, present, and the yet to come of this alternate reality, so perhaps the lesson has been learned. It's your Christmas miracle."

"To confront my fears and express my emotions?"

Michonne looked between the golden piece of metal and him. "What do you want to do?"

His mind raced, analyzing the choice he had before him. What _did_ he want to do? He looked back at Michonne who wore a gentle smile and opened his mouth to speak. "Is it okay if we just sit here for a while. I just want to _be_."

"We're wrinkly old people now," she giggled, snuggling closer. "Bet that scared you half to death."

"It suits you better than it suits me," he said, lightly touching her cheek. "You're just as beautiful as when we were seventeen. I see the same warm eyes, the same breathtaking smile and heavenly laugh. You're still you."

She brought his bony hand to her lips, placing a light kiss on the back of his hand. "Sure."

Rick didn't know how long they sat together in silence, listening to the melodic croons on the radio and just being together. He thought about all the mistakes he made in life. He thought about seeing his Michonne at that coffee shop on Market Street after all those years apart. Her humor was the same as was her laugh and her smile. He knew even then that he still loves her.

"Okay Mrs. Grimes, you're out of here," the nurse rasped. Elodie was right behind her.

Michonne looked over at Rick, giving him a small nod, still able to effectively communicate without words. "Can you give us five minutes please? Our favorite song is on and we'd like a moment to enjoy it. Five minutes. Nothing more."

The nurse and Elodie exchanged a look before the nurse nodded her head. "Fine. Y'all are too sweet. My teeth hurt."

"It's time," she said, once the doors closed. "Go get your girl."

Rick turned the coin over in the palm of his hand. He lightly rubbed his fingers over the words 'Festival of Lights' on the face. When he flipped the coin over, he noticed an inscription on the back that he never noticed before. It said 'Fulfilling Christmas Wishes'. He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of the past few days.

"You know, you have an uncanny tendency of always being right. I might have said that a few times before over the years, but only because it's true."

"It's a gift," they said at the same time.

"Go back to the other me," she whispered, winking her eye.

He held Michonne's hand with one of his hands and lifted his other spidery hand, tossing the coin up into the air. He watched as the coin flipped over above them, before gravity brought it back down to the linoleum floor.

"See you in 2018."

His body began to tingle, his tongue grew heavy, and the air vibrated around him. His limbs felt like they were elongating and their were chills in his bones. Time itself slowed down around him and everything went black.

* * *

There you have it! Review and let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

**Happy New Year and thanks for all the reviews and supportive words. They're greatly appreciated. Here's a treat for you as we enter the new year.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Rick blinked awake at the sound of thumping against the floorboards. Rays of sunlight gleamed through the window, illuminating the familiar bedroom. He groaned, gripping his pounding head as he tried to remember what happened the night before.

"Michonne?" he called, confused by the thumping noise. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to make the grogginess disappear. That was when he realized where he was.

"Shit!" He sat up straight in the bed looking around the room. The memories came back in flashes. The hospital room, an elderly version of him and Michonne, all his descendants, and that golden coin.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Rick?"

His heart sank. He shut his eyes, hoping he was stuck in a nightmare, but knowing this had to be done. At least he didn't wake up in a cemetery. This was what he wanted from the time he woke up in that unfamiliar apartment, and now he wasn't sure why dread suddenly filled him.

He opened his eyes again and the room remained unchanged. He reached into his pant pockets in search of the golden coin, only to find them empty. His clothes were different too.

Was it all a dream?

He rubbed his forehead, feeling like he had a massive hangover. He spotted the jacket he wore on Christmas Eve with Michonne, hung neatly over the back of his chair. He picked it up, searching the pockets.

"Rick?" his mother's voice repeated. He could hear the worry in her voice.

"Yeah," he answered, opening the small box he found in his pocket. He popped open the box, revealing the little silver microscope, entwined with a letter M which he first saw in Nabila's display case on Christmas Eve with his other Michonne.

How on earth?

"There's uh...well there was someone here to see you. Michonne. She left as quickly as she came though," she said, through the closed door. "Just thought you should know. Be careful on your way out, okay? Your father has been trying and failing miserably to repair that table in the hallway."

Rick was back to his old life feeling both hollow and mildly hopeful at the same time. Michonne was in his house and now she's gone. He remembered the other Michonne's words from the day before. You never know what you might find.

He was in an almost trance-like state as he started getting ready for the day. He didn't exactly have a plan, but after what he experienced, a little spontaneity couldn't hurt. He was back to his lonely life, that barely felt like his own. None of it felt real anymore.

He walked downstairs, entering the kitchen to find a remedy for his pounding headache. As he looked around the kitchen of his childhood home, he was reminded of the first time Michonne came over after they started dating.

It was under the guise of studying and his mother being his mother had a 'no closed rooms' policy for when his girlfriend was over. It was right in that very kitchen, she walked in on them with their lips locked together engaging in heavy necking with their "homework" forgotten.

He chuckled, remembering her scandalized gasp and the "Rick!" she shrieked out.

After eating breakfast and taking some painkillers, Rick found himself standing in the middle of the living room feeling very conflicted.

"She's happy," he mumbled to himself. But did she actually say that? She kept things vague at the diner, but that was probably to spare my feelings.

It couldn't hurt to offer a better apology and a proper explanation like the other Michonne said. He thought back to that night at the festival when he heard her voice for the first time in almost twelve years.

He let her slip away, and now he was going to what? Woo her away from a man who won her heart and who probably wasn't arrogant enough to think that he knew what she needed better than she did? That didn't seem fair to Michonne and certainly not fair to the man she was about to marry.

It wasn't his place to meddle. Maybe she would be happy to never see him again. Or maybe it was time to stop trying to guess the outcome of every move he made and stop projecting things onto Michonne. The self-sabotaging had to stop at some point.

He decided to lay all the cards on the table and leave the outcome to chance. He wouldn't try to put any pressure on her, but he was going to be a little bit selfish.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" his mother asked as she emerged from upstairs and saw him hastily moving across the room.

"Got to get this to a friend before…" He paused in the open doorway, looking back at his mother. "What's today's date?"

"December twenty-seventh. Are you going to ask me this every day?"

"I've asked this before?" Was there another him here? He had no other memory of the past few days. His only memories were of his time with the other Michonne.

"Yeah." She stared at him, wide eyed. "You feeling okay? How much did you have to drink last night?"

"I don't know." He grinned, letting out a burst of laughter. "But I've never felt better."

Rick was in positive spirits during the entire drive to the B&B. It wasn't until he parked his car in front of the big blue house he started having second thoughts. For all he knew, his whole adventure with the other Michonne was one weird fever dream.

Hearing about his undying love for her was the last thing the real Michonne needed or wanted to hear. What would he even say?

"She's engaged. What the hell am I doing?"

A car with a large 'UBER' sticker pulled up in front of him and that was when he noticed bags at the end of the driveway. The Christmas holiday was over so he figured it was some family member heading back home. He hoped Michonne wasn't amongst them.

A tall, dark-skinned man emerged from the house and started walking down the driveway and Rick immediately recognized him from the night at the Festival of Lights.

Michonne's fiancé.

His palms were sweaty. His grip on the steering wheel tightened and he considered giving up and going home. He was so caught up in his own mind, he didn't see a figure appear outside the driver side window of his car. When the nimble fingers rapped against his window, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Shit!"

Michonne stood on the other side of the glass, staring back at him. He rolled down the window, offering her a smile.

"Rick." Her brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Uhh…" He tried to formulate a response. "I heard you came by this morning."

The ball was in her court now. He opened the door, stepping out of the car and shooting a quick glance to her fiancé who was loading two small bags into the trunk of the black car.

"You leaving?" he asked, nodding in the man's direction.

Her eyes followed the movement of his head, and she looked at the man as if she didn't see the man loading up the car, steps away from them.

"No."

The man closed the trunk, turning to face them. "Michonne," he called as if Rick wasn't standing there.

"Micheal," she said, dryly in response.

He shook his head, chuckling humorlessly. "Really?"

"You have something to say?"

The man looked beyond Michonne, his eyes landing on Rick as he assessed the man. Rick silently made an assessment of his own. The man was tall, looked to be in good shape, and wore an expression of cold nonchalance. There was some obvious tension between him and Michonne and it didn't seem like the positive kind.

"Rick, right?" Michael said, addressing Rick. "The ex-boyfriend from high school?"

"Yeah," Rick answered, looking between the engaged couple. Michonne was studiously avoiding Michael's gaze. "I'm guessing you're the fiancé."

"Well we both have something in common now," he said, with a dark chuckle. "Enjoy the rest of your holiday man." His eyes moved to Michonne. "Call me when you get back. We'll figure out arrangements and stuff."

"Yeah," she said, shakily. "That's fine. Have a safe trip."

Micheal nodded, turning and entering the car. They stood in silence as the car disappeared down the street. There was a strange kind of finality in Michonne and Michael's interaction. It was as if they were newly acquainted strangers, parting ways and not knowing or caring if they ever saw each other again.

"So, this morning?"

"Oh, right. Well, I was in the neighborhood and…" She bit her lip, letting the sentence trail off. "Can we...can we talk? I was actually about to go to the diner if you want to come along. I don't know, I've just been..."

She seemed to be trying to find the words to explain what she wanted, but at this point, he would have given her anything to be next to her. "Sure, I was actually hoping to talk to you too."

"Oh great! That works out then. The diner?"

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair as a somewhat calming measure. "We could actually walk over there since it's not too far."

"Save the environment and all that," she grinned.

They trod through the think newly fallen snow in complete silence. He snuck glances at her as they walked and he caught her sneaking glances his way as well. She seemed to be deep in thought and he wondered what she was thinking about. As they made their way toward the old diner from their youth, she slipped on a smooth sheet of snow, and because his eyes were trained on her, his hands immediately shot out to prevent her fall.

"Oh my gosh," she squealed, clutching on to his arm for dear life. His other arm was wrapped firmly around her waist.

"Careful."

"Thanks." She smiled up at him and them immediately averted her eyes.

"Do you—" They both started speaking at the same time and laughed nervously when they realized they were saying the same thing.

"Sorry, go ahead," she said, but he was more interested in what she was about to ask.

"It's nothing…" he started, carefully choosing his words. "No, it is something. I just wanted to say that...I really wish I didn't end things the way that I did. It might be the greatest mistake I have ever made in my life. I don't want to make this weird, so don't feel obligated to accept this ridiculous apology. I know you're an accomplished woman, I'm just a high school ex-boyfriend with no bearing on your life. I know you're not some broken-hearted girl I left behind. But what I felt for you back then was love. I didn't think I was in love, I knew it, and that's why I broke things off. It was because I loved you more than I could comprehend and I never stopped loving you."

Michonne looked away, nodding her head. She seemed to be trying to gather her thoughts as she pressed her hand to her mouth, breathing deeply. "You're more than that," she said softly. He could see the building emotion in her eyes, before she turned and started walking again.

* * *

 **~OUACT~**

The diner looked the same as it did when he visited it with the other Michonne. They even sat in the same corner booth and ordered from faded coffee stained menus.

The differences between then and now, was their relationship status and the lull in the conversation. Michonne had been immensely quiet ever since he poured his heart out in the middle of the sidewalk.

He watched as she studiously studied the menu, even though she already knew what she wanted.

The same waitress approached their table with her coffee pot in hand, offered her forced, rehearsed smile, and served them warm cups of terrible coffee. They both ordered sweet potato pecan pie and shared a laugh at how easily they fell back into their routine.

"So, do you have a date for the wedding yet?" he asked, apprehensively. It was his own stupidity that caused her to slip away.

"No."

Her answer gave Rick pause. He glanced down at her hand, noticing her bare left ring finger. He couldn't remember if he ever saw a ring there.

"And I don't think we ever will. We officially called off the engagement last night."

"Oh...I'm sorry." In some ways he was, in others he wasn't. He was only sorry it made her sad.

Michonne shrugged, bringing her coffee cup to her lips. "It's been over for a while now, but I guess it was hard for us to admit it to ourselves. I haven't worn my ring in months. It was kind of an unspoken thing and this trip really solidified that thing. At least I didn't start full blown planning yet."

She grimaced, placing the cup down and sticking out her tongue in disgust. "The coffee is still terrible, I see."

"Nobody comes here for the coffee."

"Some things never change."

Words automatically left his mouth. "People do."

She quirked a brow. "Are you one of those people or are you talking about me?"

He decided to come back to that question later. "You've been quiet ever since I said what I said."

"Well…" she began slowly. "It was kind of a lot. Maybe I'm trying to process it."

Rick took her hand across the table, weaving their fingers together. The action felt natural, as if it was something they always did. Although, it was something they did quite often in the previous decade. "Raw unprocessed emotions?" he requested.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "Right now? I really want to know what the hell was wrong with you. I haven't seen or heard from you in almost twelve years, then all of a sudden there you are in front of me. When I saw you at the festival, I felt a lot of conflicting emotions. There was rage, sadness, happiness and relief all wrapped up in one. I spent so much time convincing myself I was over it and you. Now you're talking about love and…" her words trailed off.

"I made a mistake, the biggest mistake of my life, and I'm going to do everything I can to fix it."

She groaned in irritation, snatching her hands away. "How can you possibly know that? Maybe it wasn't meant to be. And what about me in all of this? I'm just supposed to fall madly in love with you again? Jump into bed with you again? Pretend there isn't a world of hurt between us?"

"No, but I want you to know that I never stopped loving you and if you're willing to give me another chance, we can give this another try. Start slower this time."

"Rick," she shook her head. "You're probably about twelve years too late for that. That was something I needed to hear the summer after our fight, not now."

He nodded in acceptance. "Okay. Friendship then?" For now, he'd take anything she wanted to give.

"I guess people do change," she said with a small smile. "You're a lot more persistent. I mean, you were persistent back then in certain aspects, but...maybe not when it mattered most."

"Ending things the way I did was the worst mistake of my life and I refuse to just live with that mistake. These past few days really opened my eyes. There's been a missing piece in my life and it's you."

"And what about when you want to go off and explore again? Meet new people and see new things. Do fickle people ever change?"

"That's a fair question," he nodded. "But I don't think I was being fickle, I was—"

"Trying to protect me," she finished for him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well you did a great job in protecting me from yourself. The heartbreak could have been worst. I don't know if this is one of those cases where 'guy sees girl he dumped with someone else, so all of a sudden guy wants girl back'."

Rick shook his head, frustrated that his point wasn't coming across clearly. "This has nothing to do with your engagement. I would never try to come between your relationship with anyone. I wouldn't mess with your happiness like that."

Michonne entwined her fingers together, folding them under her chin. "It's a good thing my fiancé is conveniently out of the picture then."She silently stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. "Friends. We can work toward that."

"Thank you." He extended his hand across the table. "Let's just start over."

Just then the waitress came, bringing their pie and Rick awkwardly pulled his hand back for her to place the plates in front of them.

"I don't eat things like this anymore."

"Neither do I, but for old times sake," he said. "I had a piece the other day and it was like years of memories in a single bite."

"Was it?" she asked incredulously, digging her fork into the tip of the pie slice and bringing it to her mouth. "Wow, you're right. So good."

"The one thing here that's consistently good."

Seeing her sitting across from him brought back many fond memories, just like it did when he came with the other Michonne. It almost had the feeling of a first date.

"So, tell me," she said, setting down her fork. "Since we're 'friends' now, I want some candid answers. Why the sudden change? What about our meeting four days ago made you decide that confessing your undying love for me was a good idea. I said I moved on and there was no bad blood. It seems out of character and don't feed me that people change bullshit."

He paused, wondering how much he should tell her. He told the other Michonne what happened to him, why not this one. "You'll think I'm crazy if I told you."

"Maybe I already think you're crazy."

"I don't think so. Before I tell you anything, I want you to answer something for me."

She pursed her lips. "That's not fair, but I'll allow it."

"Why did you stop by this morning?"

His question seemed to catch her off guard. "I...I told you. I just wanted to talk. It's stupid, but when we had breakfast the other day it was...nice. It really messed with my head because I had that big ball of conflicting emotions again. I guess I wanted closure. For all I knew, I'd never see you again after this so I wanted to solidify our ending. Leave nothing unspoken."

"Closure, huh?"

Her eyes grow glassy as if she was holding back tears. "It hurt and getting over you was a lot harder than I was willing to admit and I just wanted to pull the knife out and just let things die. We'd go our own separate ways on good terms this time."

"Then I just had to go and spring a declaration of love on you."

"Still an asshole," she laughed, dabbing at her eye. She was teasing him, which he took as a positive sign. " There, I told you. So, what's the crazy thing you wanted to tell me about?"

He finished off the last of his pie, carefully setting down his fork. "Tell you what. If you agree to go on a second date with me, I'll tell you all about it."

She crossed her arms, quirking a brow. "Oh is that what this is?" There was a charmed amusement in her voice.

"Have dinner with me next week. I'll be in D.C."

She bit her lip, toying with the handle of her mug before she finally gave him the response he was desperately waiting to hear. "I guess I could have dinner with my new friend next week. I'll mark you down in my calendar."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Review please.**


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